


Criss-Crossed: Tales of Ladybug and Cataclysm

by soundofez



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, F/M, Miraculous Ladybug AU, Platonic Relationships, ResBang 2016, it's some kinda rom com at least, though if i've done my job right you shouldn't have to know anything about ML
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-17 01:51:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 34,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9298970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundofez/pseuds/soundofez
Summary: Someone is trying to tear down Shibusen University, and Soul and Maka have been chosen as its protectors. They don't know the faces behind each other's masks, though, and while superheroes Ladybug and Cataclysm work together great, Soul and Maka don't get along so well.Meanwhile, Marie has moved back in town and is in full gear planning her wedding, but her fiancé isn't so hot on either the supervillain-attacks-every-other-day thing or the meeting-old-university-friends thing...(Stein? Stein just wants his paper published and definitely nothing else, no matter what Professor Albarn thinks.)





	1. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: mild violence, too many POVs, zero to nothing, what is pacing who the hell knows.

"Soul, right?" the woman at the dormitory front desk asks, flipping through a printed spreadsheet behind a janky, over-friendly name board that reads "Tsubaki Nakatsukasa is happy to help!" in neat dry-erase marker.

Soul mutters affirmation, and she checks his name off. "Here's your ID card," she tells him with the most sincerely polite smile Soul has ever seen. "If you need anything else, feel free to ask."

She's as uncannily cheerful as the board bearing her name. Soul backs away as he replies, "Right, sure," but then he remembers that Wes doesn't have a piano back at the house. "Hey, uh— where's the nearest practice room?"

Apparently, the only practice rooms around are on campus, a ten minute walk away from this old, ornate mansion of a dorm building. "But if you just want a piano, there's one behind the kitchen," she offers, pointing down the hall.

Soul finds the instrument after a bit of wandering. It's behind the kitchen, as promised, but it is tucked in the corner of a lounge, and it's a keyboard, not an actual piano. Still, no one is around, and the keys are reasonably pressure sensitive, so he settles in.

He's partway through a lazy Cascada improv when someone walks in behind him. That's alright, though: now that he's gotten his music fix, he can just... improv a stop and go home.

Then the someone starts singing along, and they are very, **very** off-key.

" _Can't you feel my heart beat so, I can't let you go_ —"

"You're flat," Soul interrupts, turning to glare at the singer, who he finds to be composed primarily of bare stick legs, enormous green eyes, sandy pigtailed hair, and an atrocious fashion sense.

She is utterly adorable, even as her face contorts into pure rage and she stomps over to direct her fist into his left eye.

* * *

Maka comes to desk duty grumpy. This event by itself is not uncommon, but Tsubaki thinks it's a little early in the semester to be stressed, even for her.

"Are you okay?" Tsubaki asks.

"I'll be fine," Maka replies. "Ugh, you would not believe—"

Maka's eyes fix on something behind Tsubaki. Tsubaki turns. "Oh! Soul, right? Can I help you? Is your eye okay?"

Soul is staring at Maka, one hand pressed over an eye, but he jumps at Tsubaki's questions. "Uhhm. I— Which— Where's health services?"

Tsubaki glances between Maka, whose expression is darkening even further, and Soul, who looks like he wants to run. "I can take you there," she offers. "My shift is over now anyway."

"No, that's— okay, I'll just... be over there." Soul retreats around the corner to wait for her.

" _He called me flat,_ " Maka hisses, freshly enraged. "I was just going to— UGH, I cannot believe—"

"He said _what_ — nevermind," Tsubaki whispers back. "Shibusen's going to eat him alive if he keeps that up. We can catch up later, okay?"

"Dinner?"

"No, I have a group meeting— I'll text you. Bye!"

Soul is appropriately subdued when Tsubaki finds him. "Was it really necessary to insult her like that?" she asks.

Soul flinches. "I might have overreacted," he admits, "but if you're singing along to a song, maybe at least try to match pitch? She didn't have to be so mad. It can't have been the first time someone's told her."

Tsubaki's lips press together, but she hums as neutrally as she can. "That doesn't make it any less rude. And what does matching pitch have to do with anything?"

"What— because her singing was flat?"

Tsubaki blinks. "Oh. _Oh._ But she— didn't you call her flat?"

"Yeah? Because she was?"

"Soul, _boobs_."

"Wh-what do boobs— _oh._ "

Tsubaki bursts into laughter. "I'll tell her not to bite your face off," she offers. "She's nice, I promise. Usually."

"When she's not being insulted," Soul mumbles in agreement. "It's fine, I probably won't see her again, anyway. Thought she was a student...."

"She is," Tsubaki confirms.

"What? But she's working...?"

Tsubaki blinks at the boy. "You don't know? Desk duty is offered to students to supplement their tuition. Maka's a junior, like me." The words feel odd in her mouth— she hasn't quite internalized that she's halfway through her studies.

"Oh. Me, too."

"...What?"

"I'm a junior transfer."

Soul Evans, Tsubaki thinks blankly, is absolutely full of surprises. "Ah. This is your stop, by the way."

Soul's head swivels between her and the health services door. "Oh, r-right. Thanks, Miss Nakat— um."

"Tsubaki is fine," she waves. "See you around, Soul."

* * *

Maka looks up with a smile when he knocks on the desk, but when her eyes land on his hair (freshly dyed the brightest blue he could find in celebration of nabbing a job that doesn't enforce a dress code) she drops the fake cheer immediately. "Seb, what the hell, you graduated, don't do this to me."

"Wow, _rude_. Can't guy visit an old friend?" Seb leans against the front desk and lets out a low whistle at the look on her face. "Damn, Maks, what'd your old man do this time?"

Maka's scowl deepens. "Nothing... yet. Some stupid freshman was being a _jerkface_."

"Who do I gotta murder," Seb asks flatly.

" _No one_ , I beat his ass myself."

"... I mean, yeah, but can I beat him up anyway?"

Maka snorts. "I didn't exactly get his name. Gave him a black eye, but he saw me come in for desk duty, so I'm probably in for a lecture and a strike."

She's got that too-casual tone of voice that means she's gonna blow up if he doesn't defuse her, so Seb offers, "I'd pay good cash money to see the next time you run into him."

Maka laughs. Good. "Piss off, Seb." But she doesn't mean it. "Hey, my shift ends in half an hour, we can grab dinner then—" Her phone interrupts her with an alarm, and her face drops back into a grimace. "Oh, hang on."

Seb crosses his arms to wait, disgruntled. Pissing off Maka is his job, but the world seems to be missing the memo today.

"Hi, Papa. ... I'm fine, Papa, I'm not a freshman anymore. ... No, I have plans. Yeah. Bye, Papa."

Seb lifts a brow as Maka jabs a finger at her phone. "What did Professor Manslut want?"

Maka rolls her eyes. "Just wanted to see his precious baby darling before the first day of classes," she says sourly. "He wanted dinner, too, but I have plans." She eyes him apprehensively. "You _are_ free for dinner, right?"

"Woah, Maks, you know I'm not into you."

She yowls in disgust. Seb laughs as he weathers her indignant attacks. "Go awayyy," she whines.

"Sure, sure, have fun at dinner with your dad," Seb snickers, making his way into the dorm proper.

Maka texts a few seconds later. _Jerk._

 _u kno u love me_ , Seb shoots back. _im grabbin KILIK btw_

 _Pfft._  
_Kilik is cool._

_o yea u already knwo him then_

_Yeah._  
_Thanks._

That's unusual. Seb sighs.

 _np_ , he texts back. _nerd_

* * *

"What happened to you?" Wes blurts when he sees Soul that evening.

Soul doesn't look up from his phone. "Got punched out for being an ass," he mutters, shifting the ice pack over his eye self-consciously.

Wes winces. "Who did it? Did you report them?"

Soul shakes his head. "It was my fault," he insists. "I'm not reporting her."

"Her? Soul, being a good person does not include letting girls get away with violence." Wes crosses his arms as he sits beside Soul on the couch.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew what I said," Soul sighs.

"I'm skeptical."

"... Don't laugh."

"What— why would I laugh? You have to tell me now."

"No."

" _Soooul_."

Soul locks his phone and hides his face in his knees. "I-called-her-flat-and-she-thought-I-was-talking-about-her-chest," he says in one quiet breath.

Wes takes a moment to parse Soul's muttering, and then barks out a single laugh, followed by more laughter. " _Wow_ ," he finally gasps. "You're kidding? You're not kidding. Hah, yeah, okay, I guess you deserved it? But you shouldn't have gotten a black eye for it."

"I'm not gonna see her again," Soul points out. "It's a big, big university, I can just... never see her. Ever again."

Wes tries to stop laughing. Fails.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you," Soul grumbles, rolling away from Wes.

"I'm sorry, it's just really funny. You meant her voice, right?"

"I definitely didn't mean her b-boobs!"

"You're adorable."

" _Shut up._ "

* * *

**Messages > Lovett (eventually)**  
**Today** 5:20pm

_Guess who's back in town! :D_

_:D_  
_It'll be good to see you again!_  
_How long will you be around?_

_Maybe forever? Joe got a job at DCNews!_

_Joe?_  
_That flakey boyfriend you always complained about?_

_Shhh! He's a good guy, just a little busy._

_Uh huh sure_  
_Stein's still single btw ;)_

_Spirit._  
_I'm engaged._

_WHAT_

_I'm engaged to Joe! Finally got him off his "flakey" ass :)_  
_I can't believe I never told you._

[Contact name changed to **RIP Marie Stein** ]

 _No kidding_  
_We should get dinner together and catch up_

_You're still such a flirty bastard._

_Lol what ___  
_OH WOW NO_  
_Bring your boytoy, Papa has to approve of him_  
_And I'll bring Maka!_  
_Well_  
_I'll try_

_I'm not sure whether to be relieved or insulted that you're so disinterested..._  
_How is Maka?_

_I wish I knew :'(_  
_Maka is strong like her mother though_  
_She's fine_  
_That's what I tell myself at least T^T_

 **Messages > Sweeney Todd**  
**Today** 6:42pm

 _Marie's back in town!_  
_I just got dinner with her and her_  
_Ugh_  
_FIANCE_  
_Ughhhh_

_...why are you telling me this_

_They're staying at the hotel temporarily_  
_Steal her away from him Stein_  
_I beg of you_  
_Do this thing_

_professor_

_For me_

_no_

_For Marie_

[ **Sweeney Todd** is typing...]  
[ **Sweeney Todd** has entered text]  
_it's her life professor_

_But steinnnnnn_

[ **Sweeney Todd** is typing...]  
[ **Sweeney Todd** has entered text]  
[ **Sweeney Todd** is typing...]  
[ **Sweeney Todd** has entered text]  
_is she unhappy with him?_

__

_Well_  
_No_  
_Not yet_  
_But still_

_stop meddling then_  
_she's not your daughter_

_:(_  
_Can you at least stop calling me professor_

_no_

* * *

Stein puts his device aside and rests his head in his hands, massaging his temples. He's long since assumed and accepted his fate (forever alone), but sometimes it hits a little harder than usual, like when his oblivious professor friend accidentally rubs it in that an old friend is engaged.

Because Marie is a friend. Just a friend that he tutored when they were still Shibusen U students. Just a friend that he may have admired for being so boldly unafraid of him. Just a friend that he might have grown a little too fond of.

His hand catches the carved rabbit-foot necklace that swings heavily from his neck. It had been her parting gift to him when she had graduated. "A symbol of good luck," she had told him. "For your studies."

"I'd rather rely on skill," he remembers telling her.

"You don't want it?"

"I want it."

He hadn't lied. Or, maybe he had, by exclusion, because he hadn't expressed the odd attraction he'd felt for her.

He doesn't see the darkly glowing butterfly flutter into his pendant, staining the carved wood a deep violet.

"Good evening, White Rabbit. I am The Painted Lady, and I would like to offer you my assistance in exchange for a small favor."

"Assistance?"

"You want something. I can help you get it."

"I want...?"

"You want love, do you not?"

"... I want to protect her," Stein corrects.

"Then go," The Painted Lady purrs. "As a favor, though, would you mind destroying Shibusen University? The powers I have granted you should be more than sufficient."

It seems a reasonable, negligible price to pay for the power to protect Marie. "I accept," Stein replies, and smiles madly as darkness consumes him.

Maybe Marie isn't unhappy, but that is no guarantee that she is _happy_ , White Rabbit reasons. He can just... confirm Spirit's assessment of the relationship.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Marie apologizes again, placing her hand over Joe's under the covers. "I don't know what got into him."

Joe doesn't open his eyes, but his thumb rubs anxious circles over her knuckles. "Don't worry about it, Marie," he says quietly.

Marie sighs. "I'm worrying."

"Don't."

"Spirit was my adviser," she tries to explain. "We were very close. And he's having problems with his daughter, so I think he just wants someone to dote on." Her grip tightens petulantly. "He doesn't have a say in how I feel about you, Joe."

"Marie, go to sleep," Joe murmurs.

Marie sighs again. "I'm sorry. I know you're sensitive about what people think about us."

"... I love you."

Marie presses a kiss to Joe's cheek and snuggles against his arm. "I love you, too."

The window shatters. Marie shrieks, throwing herself blindly away from the crash. Joe is crouched beside her a moment later, hands clamped around her shoulders as she clings to his chest.

"Apologies," says the figure climbing into their room through the window. "I didn't mean to startle you. I overestimated the window lock."

"Sir, you are breaking and entering," Joe says, all business now, but he doesn't say anything more because the person— the _creature_ — has palmed Joe's _face_.

" **Get off him** ," Marie snarls, swiping at the thing's face.

"Marie, it's me!" it exclaims, backing away from her reaching nails.

Joe doesn't move, even when it lets him go. " _What did you do to Joe?!_ " Marie demands, glancing carefully at her fiancé.

The monster shrugs. "A stitch in time. He'll be fine."

Marie squints at the monster, taking in its humanoid body, its elongated glasses, the dark pendant that rests against its chest.

She knows that pendant, discolored as it is. "Franken?"

Franken beams. "Not quite! I'm White Rabbit." He extends his hand. "It's been a very long time. I was hoping we could talk without your fiancé."

Marie narrows her eyes at it— _him_. "What do you want?"

It— _he_ tilts his head. "I just wanted to know if— are you happy?"

"Well, not right _now_ , I'm not, not with a lunatic who's broken into my hotel room and attacked my fiancé!"

His hand drops. "Oh. Oh, yes. Yes, I can see how that would be distressing. But, Marie, I promise, I won't hurt you..."

Marie backs away as confusion flickers across White Rabbit's face.

"What are you— no!" he snarls, lurching into a fighting stance. "Stop! I won't hurt... Marie...."

He stands there for several tense seconds. Marie waits in uncertain silence, frozen, feeling infuriatingly helpless, and then he backs away from her.

"Fine," he pants. "Fine, I'll do as you say, but after I do it, you have to swear never to hurt Marie."

He casts a look back at Marie, and then strides out of the ruined hotel window.

Marie blinks in disbelief, pulling herself uncertainly out of her own defensive crouch. Joe still isn't moving, she realizes, feeling herself bubble with rage. What is Franken _thinking_? She'd never been afraid of the man before, in spite of all her friends' warnings, and she's not about to start now. If White Rabbit— if _Franken Stein_ thinks he can get away with terrorizing Marie Mjolnir, he's got a hard lesson to learn.

* * *

Maka blinks at the elegant box on her laptop. A gift from Papa, maybe? But there's no tag or note, and not very many people have access to her room. She opens the lid, grimacing in anticipation of more disgusting lingerie—

The ring inside gleams unnaturally. Maka drops the box with a yelp and watches in bewilderment when a tiny black cat manifests before her, yawning.

"What the..." Maka leans closer to inspect the little thing.

"Name's Blerr. Nya-ice ta meetcha," the mini-cat says, batting at Maka's nose and looking around. "Ooh, a student? _Bo-ring._ Everything's so neat and tidy... gosh, you must be a studious one." She flashes a wicked grin, two tiny canines gleaming. "It's always the quiet ones, isn't it?"

Maka scowls as she picks up the box, absently donning the ring inside. "What are you talking about?"

"Got any boytoys?" Blerr purrs, floating over to Maka's bed and sniffing at the covers. "Oooh, these smell _nice_."

" _Get away from my stuff, you rat,_ " Maka hisses, throwing herself at the tiny creature, who floats lazily out of the way.

"So meeeean," Blerr complains, landing on Maka's head and snuggling in, ignoring Maka's shrieks and attempts to remove her. "Hey, got any fish?"

Maka finally catches the thing by its ear. "I hate fish."

Blerr escapes from Maka's grasp and sticks out her tongue. "Too bad, kitten! That's the trade-off— I give you superpowers, and you give me fish."

They're interrupted by Maka's phone pinging an email notification. "What's that?" Blerr asks curiously.

"I don't know," Maka informs the creature irritably, crossing her arms. "Wait— superpowers? Hey, give that back!"

"Do you wanna be a hero?" Blerr sing-songs as she pokes around Maka's unlocked phone. "Who's Sebastian? Sounds like a crab," she adds, sounding disappointed.

Maka swipers her phone from the tiny thing. "What is it with you and boys? They're gross," she fumes, glaring down at her phone screen.

An email is pulled up. **Campus Alert** and _just now_ sit at the head of the screen, and Maka's eyes flick past "unidentified humanoid monster," "White Rabbit," and "avoid indefinitely."

"No way!" Maka blurts.

"Yes way," Blerr yawns. "Here's what you gotta know: You'll get this power called Cataclysm, you transform when you say 'claws out,' and you're gonna have a partner."

Maka's curiosity is immediately piqued. "A partner? What if I say 'claws out' accidentally or something? What do I transform into? What's the transformation _like_? What does Cataclysm do? How do I activate it?"

Blerr makes a face. "Oh, you're the type that has to know _everything_ , aren't you. Well, it should all come naturally, but Cataclysm specifically is the power to destroy. And I don't know who your partner is going to be, either, because they always pick new names, and anyway this whole thing has to be a secret."

"What, you mean like a secret identity?"

"Pretty much," the cat agrees, flitting curiously over to the mini fridge and then _straight through the unopened door_. Maka leaps over to rip open the fridge door, only to find Blerr sitting on a shelf, arms crossed, green eyes narrowed and pouting. "You don't even have tuna," she complains.

"I told you, I don't like fish," Maka explains automatically. "I can't tell friends or family?"

Blerr sighs, floating up and out of the mini fridge. "Look," she begins solemnly, "the person we're fighting has a way of finding things out from _anyone_. Well, anyone but you and your partner, at least." She puts a tiny paw in front of her mouth. "You can't let this be an excuse if your grades slip. Unless you want to give it up?"

Maka bristles at the idea. "But this person is making things like this 'unidentified humanoid monster,' right?" she asks, brandishing her phone. "If we can stop it, I can't exactly sit around! Claws out!"

"Wait, I'm not done—!"

Blerr is sucked into the ring as the transformation begins. It's foreign, but somehow sensual and exhilarating. Fifteen seconds later, she looks down at herself, giddy. Black leather flexes and gleams smoothly back. She takes a moment to regret the lack of mirrors in her room, and then another to thank her luck for giving her a window facing a deserted alley. She can slip out easily from here, opening her window and the screen and leaping up, ricocheting off of the opposite wall and landing cleanly on top of a roof.

"So cool," she breathes, bouncing on her toes a little. Her ears and tail— her _cat ears_ , the ones made of fabric on her head, and her _cat tail_ , a belt on her uniform that swings freely behind her— waggle in delight. She _feels_ them, like an odd but natural extension of herself.

She feels her baton, too, like an extra sense, so she plucks it from the small of her back and gives it an experimental twirl. Cheerleading in high school is one thing, but she finds herself wielding the metal bar with a level of dexterity that she doesn't remember having.

"Blerr, this is _amazing_!" Maka exclaims.

No answer.

"Hello?" she asks, tapping at the ring on her finger. "Huh. Guess not." She grins, inhaling the night air happily. "Well, time to be a hero."

* * *

"You sure you don't want to come?" Wes asks as he scoops up his lanyard from the mantelpiece.

"I'm sure."

"Aight. Don't wait up."

Soul snorts as he climbs the stairs to the second floor. "I'm not a kid anymore, Wes, I know better than to try and wait for a party to end."

"Just saying! Night, Soul."

"Night, Wes."

The front door clicks shut right as Soul reaches his room. His eyes land on an unmarked box on his laptop.

Is it a gift from Wes? Soul picks up the box and opens it, wondering what—

Piercing light blinds him. He yelps and drops the box to shield his eyes.

The light fades as quickly as it came. Soul lowers his arms...

" _Red means poisonous red means poisonous what the hell even is that,_ " Soul splutters, backing away from the **bright red... thing**.

The little creature chuckles. "Chill, man! I'm not poisonous, promise."

"What the— you talk?!"

"Hmm, yup! I'm a floating, talking kwami!"

"Kwami?" Soul echoes dumbly.

"I guess it's a bit like a spirit?" the thing says thoughtfully. "We've been called gods, too— oh, but that's not important. My name's Demmi. It's lovely to meet you, Soul!"

Soul gapes at the creature. "Is— Is this some kind of prank?" he asks weakly.

The critter shakes his head, two little antennae swaying organically. "Nope, no prank! Listen, Soul, all you gotta know is this: trouble is coming, and you've been chosen."

Soul keeps staring, his mind disconnecting from reality. "There's no way," he finally blurts.

Demmi gestures at a chair. "Would you like to sit? This might take a while."

Hours later, Soul has attached the earrings in Demmi's box to his woven bracelet like a pair of pins, has pulled up multiple Wikipedia pages in an effort to fact-check Demmi's accounts of historical events in relation to mysterious ladybug-themed heroines and heroes (mostly heroines), and is scrolling through the tenth or so biography when his laptop notifies him of _[1] unread email_.

Soul pulls it up. Demmi frowns at the screen. "Time to go, then."

Soul blinks, still absorbing the email. "What?"

"I told you, right?" Demmi asks, fluttering down and landing on Soul's keyboard, somehow without keysmashing. "You were chosen to fight."

" _Now?_ "

Demmi shrugs. "Guess so! C'mon, let's go."

Soul stares uncertainly. "I think there's been a mistake," he tells the kwami.

Demmi's face breaks into a kind smile. "I have faith that there hasn't. C'mon, you know what to say."

"Wait, are you sure you've told me everything?" Soul presses nervously. "I can't ask when we're transformed, right?"

"You know the commands, right?" Demmi asks.

"Spots on, lucky charm, miraculous ladybug, spots off. I have to find the infected object, break it, and catch the butterfly. Lucky charm limits the transformation to five minutes," Soul rattles off.

Demmi's smile widens. "Perfect! You'll do great."

Soul takes a deep breath. And another. "Okay... Okay. Demmi... spots on."

The magic that engulfs him simultaneously robs his breath and gives him new life, and is exhilarating enough that he doesn't even care that the only words he can think of to describe the feeling are _pink_ and _glittery_. Foreign power is coursing through his veins and, transformed, he instinctively looks down.

The suit (why a suit?) is reminiscent of his old performing clothes, but instead of being pinstriped, it's a deep red, spotted with black, and he's wearing black gloves that he never could have gotten away with as a pianist. "This isn't so bad," he thinks aloud. "I should have a yo-yo..."

It's tucked into his breast pocket like some kind of fancy pocket watch. Soul snorts at the thought as he opens his window. "Okay. So I just... throw...." He aims the yo-yo at a chimney and casts it, finding the action surprisingly instinctive. "Yes! And... puLLLUUAHH!"

He crashes painfully through the window and finds himself soaring far over the chimney. "How-do-I-land-how-do-I-land-how-dO-I-LAND—"

Someone wraps their arms around him in midair, landing with him in an awkward, pseudo-bridal carry. Soul's cheeks burn.

"Oh, hey, you're my partner, aren't you?" the person asks, setting him on his feet on the roof they'd landed on.

Soul stumbles out of their personal bubble. "Y-yeah, sorry, I'm kinda new at this," he stammers, looking wide-eyed at his savior.

"Oh, don't worry, I am, too!" The girl grins, green eyes glowing like a cat's. "I guess we'll be learning together!"

Her outfit is leather, mostly black, partially bleached, with gold-tinted accents, from a high, **belled** collar around her neck all the way down to clunky, utilitarian, steel-toed boots. Soul spots black cat ears twitching behind ashy blonde pigtails and wonders what he's gotten into. "Yeah, I guess we will."

The girl extends a hand. "I'm Ma— Um, Cataclysm. I'm Cataclysm. You?"

Soul's mind blanks. "Uhhh— L-Ladybug, I guess?"

She gives him a startled, appreciative look even as he kicks himself for using a name like _Ladybug_. "Are you here for the villain, too?" she asks excitedly as she pulls Soul to his feet.

"Yeah," Soul admits, instinctively checking his suit for dirt or tears. It's surprisingly easy to move in, he realizes suddenly.

"What's your power?" she asks him, walking backwards toward an edge of the rooftop.

"It's good luck," he says, echoing what Demmi had told him less than an hour ago. "One command gives me an item to use, and the other is supposed to fix everything."

"That's like the opposite of me!" Cataclysm exclaims.

"Bad luck?"

"Destruction," she confirms, but Soul's attention is caught by the figure looming suddenly over them.

"Look out!" Soul doesn't really think as he tackles her straight into the villain. They all tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Cataclysm recovers first. She grabs Soul by the back of his dress jacket and pole-vaults them across the street, then turns around to face the villain.

Soul recovers at the same time the creature does, grabs Cataclysm by the belt, and _flees_.

"What are you doing?" Cataclysm demands shrilly as he drags her into the park next to the campus grounds.

"I don't know!" Soul bellows back, throwing them both into a tree and clinging to a branch. "But I _do_ know that getting touched by that... that _thing_ gets you paralyzed. Didn't you get the email?"

Cataclysm blinks. "Oh. Oh, yeah."

Soul scoots against the trunk of the tree and pulls his knees up. "This was a mistake," he groans.

"Heroes," the creature calls, voice carrying unnaturally through the trees. It must have followed them. "My patron wishes to speak with you. She wishes no harm."

"A mistake?" Cataclysm asks, quietly, ignoring the creature. "You were chosen, right?"

"By mistake!" Soul insists, glaring at the magical red fabric covering his knees.

"I don't believe it," Cataclysm says simply. "Magic doesn't make mistakes."

He knows. He feels it, feels the certainty of the magic running counterpoint to his fear. "Yeah, but _I do_. I'm not... I don't do action, I'm not cut out for this—"

"I am The Painted Lady," a new voice says silkily. "My wishes have nothing to do with you, heroes. If you stay out of it, I will let you be."

"Didn't you notice?" Cataclysm asks curiously. "The magic helps you. Like this, we can do _anything_."

She's right, Soul realizes. He's not winded from all the ducking and running that he's been doing, and his black eye feels fine under his magic mask, even though the fabric of it is scrunched up in a way that should be painful. Like this, maybe he can be someone he isn't. Maybe with a mask, he can be a hero.

"So? What is your answer?" The Painted Lady asks.

He takes a few steadying breaths. "You're right," Soul tells Cataclysm.

She beams at him. "So? Got a plan?"

"Maybe. _Lucky Charm_!" A pair of goggles drops into his hands. Soul groans.

"Goggles?" Cataclysm asks skeptically.

"I'm as lost as you are." Soul closes his eyes. _Five minutes,_ Demmi had told him, and his internal timer starts ticking down. _Focus,_ Soul tells himself. _What do I need goggles for?_

The sprinklers turn on beneath them. Soul opens his eyes, looking down at them. "What happens if you break the heads off the sprinklers?" he asks slowly.

"Lots of water," Cataclysm says, wrinkling her nose. "Why? Did you get something?"

"Do you think they'd get in the monster's face?"

"Probably. Then what?"

"Then," Soul says, strapping on his goggles, "I look for his talisman while he's distracted and hope I get lucky."

Cataclysm eyes him. "There's a lot of luck involved, isn't there?"

Soul shrugs back, blinking a couple times. Goggles feel weird, especially over a mask, but he's pretty sure this suit is water-tight. "That's supposed to be my power."

Cataclysm grins suddenly. "Alright then. _Cataclysm!_ " she calls, standing and raising her hand.

"That didn't sound very accepting," The Painted Lady sighs.

"How're we supposed to accept that you're setting monsters on innocent people while we can stop it?" Cataclysm retorts, flexing her hand, which seethes with dark energy.

"Very well. White Rabbit, proceed."

"Giving your position away like that is dangerous," the monster, White Rabbit, observes.

Soul grits his teeth as Cataclysm leaps out of the tree. He drops down as well, yo-yo at the ready, just in time to see Cataclysm get a faceful of White Rabbit's palm. Soul's heart drops.

Cataclysm tilts backwards, off balance and unable to regain that balance since she's frozen. Soul slips on wet grass, falling flat on his back. ( _Like a cartoon,_ he thinks hysterically, watching White Rabbit's hand soar over him.)

Then the world turns to water. His goggles don't actually help with visibility, but they do keep the pressurized water out of his eyes, which is a plus.

White Rabbit reels backwards, lifting his arms to try and block the water splashing into his eyes. Soul doesn't bother picking himself up off the ground: he just throws his yo-yo. It thuds solidly against the necklace resting against the creature's chest, which breaks. A dark, unmistakable butterfly tries to escape. _Catch it,_ he hears in Demmi's voice, and unthinkingly unlocks case of the yo-yo and throws the it again. It snaps shut over the butterfly.

The park is a mess, Soul thinks absently, finally picking himself up, grimacing at the water that's soaked through his back. He sloshes over to Cataclysm, because he's worried about her, but also because her hand blocks the nearest broken sprinkler, making it dry enough that he can take off the goggles and not immediately get a faceful of water. (Her hand must have landed on the sprinkler when she'd fallen over, breaking the whole system in the first place, and Soul wonders if it was his good luck or her bad luck that had saved the day in the end.)

The butterfly is still in the yo-yo. "I free you from evil," Soul recites, and slides open the case to find that the butterfly is now a natural off-white. All that's left to do is throw the goggles into the air and say...

" _Miraculous Ladybug!_ "

* * *

Maka's eyes were clamped shut since White Rabbit caught her, so she doesn't see the initial swarm of ladybugs released by Ladybug's charm, but she opens her eyes as soon as they unlock her joints. (They leave her feeling somehow crisper, like mint or celery sticks or clear mountain air.)

She sits up. Her gaze immediately falls upon White Rabbit, who is engulfed by darkness that boils away to reveal Dr. Stein, one of her professors.

He blinks carefully. "How did I get here?" he finally asks, fixing his eyes on her.

"Good question," Maka replies, cautiously baffled by the query, because she doesn't really know, either.

"Franken!"

His head snaps toward the voice. Maka turns as well, and automatically catches the arm of the blonde woman striding toward Stein.

"Be careful," Maka blurts, belatedly recognizing the woman as her honorary aunt, the one who had punched her papa for cheating.

"Let me go," Marie says coolly, looking at Maka.

"But he—"

"Let her go," Ladybug says quietly behind her. "Now that the butterfly is gone, he's perfectly safe to approach."

"Marie," Stein says belatedly.

Maka looks from Stein to Marie to Ladybug and back to Stein. "You're sure?" she asks Ladybug.

"I'm sure," he says firmly. "Whatever he did, you should go easy on him, lady. He doesn't remember what happened, but if you're not careful it could happen again."

Marie's face softens. "I'll be gentle," she says wryly, pulling her arm out of Maka's loosened grip.

"It's been a long time, Franken," Marie says softly, extending her hand to Stein, and Maka is surprised to realize that she can hear the woman clearly, even from this distance.

Professor Stein takes the woman's hand and lets her pull him partway to his feet. "So it has... Marie...? What are you doing here?"

"I meant to give you a piece of my mind for... whatever you did to Joe," Marie admits.

"... Who is Joe?" Stein asks cautiously. Maka feels her ears perk curiously.

"My fiancé."

Maka digests the news with some surprise. Stein is silent for a moment, as well. "If... I can apologize for... whatever happened, and if it's not too much trouble," he says slowly, "would you consent to meet me for coffee some time?"

Marie tilts her head. "You really don't remember?"

Stein shakes his head.

Marie is silent for a while. "How about tea?" she finally asks.

Stein _chuckles_ , and then Maka is distracted by a loud _deet, deet, deet_.

Ladybug's arms are raised, and he's inspecting his cuffs with some alarm. "I have to go," he rushes out, hand already withdrawing his yo-yo. "Cataclysm... thanks."

She grins at him, and then her ring beeps loudly, echoing Ladybug's cufflinks. "Thank _you_ ," she manages, whipping out her baton. "See you, Ladybug!"

She beelines for her dorm room instead of making detours around the campus like she had before the fight. When she at last slips into her room through the still-open window, she has a spare toe-bean on her ring, so she plops down onto the floor and lets the transformation time out.

" _Fish_ ," Blerr yowls dramatically, launching herself onto the floor.

"Blerr, that was AMAZING!" Maka exclaims, leaping to her feet. "My partner was super cool—"

" ** _Fish_** ," Blerr repeats plaintively.

"He was freaking out a bit, but I think he's actually pretty good under pressure," Maka continues obliviously, pacing circles around her kwami. "And— can you believe this?— he calls himself _Ladybug_. He's perfect, Blerr!"

Blerr rises gently off the floor until she's eye-level with Maka. "Kitten," she drawls, "I'm aaaaaaall for boy talk, but I. Need. Fish, or you're gonna say goodbye to the superhero you."

Maka crosses her arms. "I told you, I don't have fish," she pouts.

Blerr floats directly in front of Maka's face. "Maka. Kitten. _Give me fish, or I die, and my miraculous will never work for you again._ "

Maka pales. "Wh-what?"

Blerr sinks back to the floor. "I told you first thing, didn't I?" she complains. "I give you superpowers and you give me fish. That's the deal, no ifs ands or buts, so you best get hunting."

And hunt Maka does, inspecting first the kitchen and then knocking on each door on her floor, beginning with her RA, earning herself a reputation as an intense lover of fish, to her chagrin.

(In the end a bewildered math major forks over his bag of dried anchovies, bemusedly reassuring her that he has plenty more where that came from, so she can go ahead and take the whole thing. Maka doesn't really think he has room to judge her when he snacks on dried anchovies, but he's also not going door to door looking for fish at one in the morning.)

((Blerr's eyes slant in an "are you serious" kind of way when Maka makes her offering. "Kitten... are you _serious_."))


	2. So Darkness I Became

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: bottled emotions, jealousy, space doesn't exist, pining.

Soul jogs down the hallway toward his class, out of breath and definitely regretting that he can't just get around as Ladybug, who never seems to run out of breath. It would only be fair, he laments, especially since being Ladybug is why he's late so much. Instead, he has to pretend to be the perpetually lost transfer student. It makes him stand out, and he chafes at what his classmates must think of him.

He takes a moment outside the classroom door to collect himself, readying an apology, but when he opens the door, his classmates are still chatting, and their TA is nowhere in sight. Relieved, he sinks into the nearest empty desk and wonders if he can catch a nap before their TA arrives.

"Sorry I'm late!"

Soul blinks at the girl standing in the doorway and sinks into his seat, wishing he'd taken the time to hide farther back.

"Forgot that 'class at 8' means 'get to the room by 8' and not 'leave at 8,' you know how it is," Maka Albarn tells the classroom sheepishly. Soul watches with dread as her green eyes sweep past him, and then flick back to him.

She is terrifying, and also _freaking adorable_. Maka Albarn has an unfair combination of badass, booksmart, and beautiful, and Soul regrets his luck.

Her smile twitches. Soul drops his gaze to his desk, feeling acutely aware of his black eye. It's healing, of course, faded to a yellow that people have stopped staring at, but he has no doubt in his mind that Maka remembers who he is.

So much for never seeing her again.

* * *

Tsubaki's phone lights up silently, drawing her gaze down to a glowing _touchdown!_

She unlocks her phone and texts back a smiley to mirror her own grin.

 _i gotta find the bus now rite_ , Liz Thompson asks.

 _Yes!_ Tsubaki replies, and then, _I'm sorry I couldn't come meet you at the airport (◞‸◟)_

Liz's reply is swift: _schill u got ur super crazy hard classes_. Tsubaki can almost hear Liz saying her next words in that fond, dry voice that Tsubaki had spent most of her high school days learning to decipher: _cant all be geniuses like u <3_

Tsubaki swallows a giggle in the quietness of the lecture hall. She settles for a face-splitting grin as she sends another smiley, accompanied by an excited, _See you soon!_

_o3o_

She tries to focus on the lecture for the rest of the hour, but when they're finally dismissed, her bag is already packed, so she heads to the campus bus stop to wait.

Liz clatters off the bus clinging to a single duffel bag only a few agonizing minutes after Tsubaki reaches the bus stop in question, and they crash together in a tangle of laughter and embracing limbs.

"How was the flight? How have you _been_? How's Patty?" Tsubaki gushes.

"Flight was fine, work is fine, I helped Patty move into this fancy freshman dorm last week and she has been _flipping out_ , it's pretty amazing. I brought you a present." Liz smirks as she presents Tsubaki with a tiny paper box.

"Liz," Tsubaki sighs.

"It reminded me of you, okay? Don't worry, I know my budget."

Tsubaki opens the box and inhales sharply. "Oh," she breathes, lifting the little silver bracelet out of its container. Three charms dangle from it: a stylized camellia, a throwing star, and a katana handle. "Liz, it's beautiful."

Liz hugs her again. "I'm glad you like it," she says. "Lemme help you put it on, and then we can grab dinner?"

Tsubaki nods, letting Liz take the bracelet and watching her fasten the chain to her wrist. "Dinner can be now, if you want. Off campus, my treat. We can drop off your stuff at my dorm first?"

"Sure, sure."

It's as they're leaving her dorm that Tsubaki spots Soul at the keyboard in the lounge, his hair white and starker than she remembers it being. The boy's— transfer student's, Tsubaki reminds herself— fingers slamm angrily on the keys, but she doesn't hear any notes. Maybe he hasn't turned it on?

"What's up with the albino edgelord?" Liz asks curiously under her breath, and Tsubaki thinks she recognizes the low admiration in her friend's voice.

Tsubaki shrugs. "Hi, Soul," she calls to him, defying the foreboding feeling in her throat.

Soul jumps and turns at Tsubaki's voice. His black eye is mostly healed: she wouldn't know that it's there if she hadn't been looking for it. "Oh. Tssssubaki?"

Tsubaki is pleasantly surprised that he remembered her name. "Yes! You have a very good memory."

His fingers drum nervously on the keyboard. "It was a memorable day," he mutters.

"How'd you meet?" Liz asks, drawing Soul's attention.

"She was on desk duty when I checked in for the semester," Soul says.

"Not that memorable."

"I took him to health services after my friend— Maka gave him a black eye," Tsubaki offers.

Liz tosses a brow toward her hairline. "More memorable," she admits, cracking a grin. "Sounds like a story."

"Not really." But Soul sounds flustered.

"Sorry for interrupting," Tsubaki says. "You were practicing, right?"

Soul shrugs. "Yeah. Was about to go grab some dinner, though."

"Why don't you get dinner with us, then?" Liz asks, waggling a brow.

Soul looks between them uncertainly. "I'm... not too busy, I guess," he admits, gathering his sheet music and shoving it into a satchel.

"Good, because I want to hear exactly why you got punched out," Liz says, smirking.

"It's not that complicated," Soul protests, but he's pushed himself to his feet. "Tsubaki could tell you."

"I wasn't there when it happened," Tsubaki points out. "It's not my place."

"It's _embarrassing_ ," Soul mutters. "I was practicing, she was off-tune, I called her out, and she thought I called her— she thought I was talking about something else—"

Liz bursts into laughter. "You _didn't_."

"Wh— Maybe?"

"You _did_! You called her _flat_ , you little turd," Liz crows.

Soul is bright red. "Sh-shut up!"

Liz doesn't, laughing intermittently for the next few minutes, even as Tsubaki changes the subject. "Were you playing something, earlier? I couldn't hear anything."

Soul's flush was fading, but it returns slightly. "After, um. After last week, I thought it would be safer if I turned the volume down."

Liz bursts into more snickers. "Yeah, I can see why," she manages to say through her giggles. "You know, a keyboard like that should have a headphone port."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I work in a music shop, and our keyboards always have headphone ports. What, you've never played one before?"

Soul shakes his head. "My old college had lots of practice rooms, and they all had uprights."

Liz and Soul are still talking music when they arrive at Rumba Coffee (café by day, diner by night, even bright summer nights before the sun sets). Something in Tsubaki feels lost as she watches them, a darkness that curls in her chest and snarls jealously— but Liz had invited him. Liz is probably _interested_. She always did like brooding musicians.

"Are you okay?" Soul asks, glancing back at her as a waitress guides them to a booth.

Tsubaki smiles back. Show nothing, show nothing, there's no reason to be upset, there's no reason to upset her friend or a perfectly nice acquaintance-friend. "I just need to use the restroom for a moment."

He nods and turns back to Liz's bar stories (how did that even come up?) as Tsubaki makes her way across black-and-white checkered tiles to the restrooms. She sighs when the door clicks shut behind her, leaning against it and pressing her hands to her eyes.

It's been a long time, that's all, she tells herself. She hasn't been to the east coast since last winter, hasn't seen Liz in the same stretch of time, hasn't gotten over confused maybe-feelings for her friend. So maybe she'd been expecting a little more attention! Liz is Tsubaki's friend, but she's not _Tsubaki's_. Tsubaki has no reason to ruin a perfectly friendly dinner with her friends. With her friend and an almost stranger.

Maybe that's why she feels so betrayed, she thinks, exhaling loudly. Soul is a perfectly nice stranger, but he's a _stranger_.

She doesn't see the black butterfly land on her charm bracelet.

"Poor Shadow Blade, lost in the darkness."

"Who...?"

"Forgive my manners. I am The Painted Lady. I can make everyone give you the attention you deserve."

"I just need Liz's attention," Tsubaki replies softly.

"I can do much more than that for you, my dear. In return, would you grant me a favor and destroy Shibusen University?"

"I don't want to hurt anyone—"

"There's no need for violence, Shadow Blade. You can simply have everyone stop attending. That would be more than enough."

"I can do that," Shadow Blade agrees.

"A word of warning— Ladybug and Cataclysm might come for you. If they do, just take their Miraculous stones from them."

"Understood, Painted Lady."

* * *

Stein steps into the diner with some reluctance. It's just Marie, he reminds himself. Just Marie, the upperclassman who had begged him for o-chem help back in university. Just Marie, the upperclassman who had punched Spirit, her own academic adviser, when the latter had cheated on his wife with the former's roommate. Just Marie, the now-engaged woman he had apparently almost kidnapped last weekend.

She's already there. Of course she is: she'd texted him when she'd arrived, a happy little _found it!_ accompanied by a selfie underneath the neon not-yet-glowing _Rumba Coffee_ sign. He hadn't replied, just walked faster as he tucked his phone into his pocket.

She spots him through the window and waves from her table, even calling his name when he walks in. Her smile is baffling.

"Marie," he replies, defaulting to neutral politeness.

"I didn't know you'd be here so soon, so I went ahead and ordered," she admits sheepishly. "Here, take the menu. Unless you know what you want?"

"Tea, of course." The gentle rib slides easily from his tongue.

Marie's giggles fall just as easily on his ears. "Of course. It's been so long! Spirit mentioned that you're a professor, now?"

"That is correct."

She smiles. Stein is struck by how she very nearly _glows_. Had she always done that?

"Oh! Isn't that Spirit's kid?"

Stein turns and sees the pigtailed girl immediately. "It is," he says neutrally, turning back to Marie.

She's waving.

The next thing Stein knows, Maka Albarn is sitting beside her "Aunt Marie," gossiping happily. Maka's eyes are drifting past Marie, though, and after she and Stein order food, he drawls, "You're staring."

The girl tenses and looks across the table at him. "What do you mean?" she asks carefully as Marie cranes her neck curiously to see what the girl might be staring at.

Stein tilts his head at the other table. You don't have to eat with us if your friends are here, too," he offers.

Maka scowls immediately. "He's not my friend."

Stein looks across the diner at the white-haired boy Maka had been glaring at. "Isn't he?"

"He's a _jerkface_ ," Maka seethes, and then glances at Marie, abashed. "Sorry."

"What'd he do?" Marie asks.

Maka flushes. "It's... I'd rather not say," she mumbles.

Someone shouts, "Look out!" The diner flashes, as though a camera has gone off. Stein looks toward the commotion reflexively.

The boy who had caught Maka's attention has vanished.

Not vanished, Stein realizes: they're crouched under the table, hiding from... ?

"Ow-chicka- _bow-wow_ , girl, you are divine!"

This declaration comes from someone who is clearly out of his mind, not because the person striding toward him is necessarily ugly, but because they are wearing an all-concealing suit of shadowy armor that can only be a supervillain's.

The diner bursts into chaos. Maka has vanished. Marie is wide-eyed and unmoving. The aisles of the restaurant are now too packed for them to get out, Stein realizes.

Marie is hit by a dark beam of _something_ , disappearing and leaving a thin, spidery silhouette in her wake.

Confused, Stein reaches across the table for her—

* * *

Soul's eyes snap to the regal, armored figure that comes striding out of the bathroom. They remind him of Tsubaki, but when they lifts their gauntleted hand toward Liz, Soul instinctively ducks under the table.

"Look out!" he yelps, yanking on Liz's arm.

Liz falls against the booth seat, surprised, but quickly grabs fistfuls of Soul's shirt. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she snarls as a silvery beam of light soars over their booth and hits the person pigging out in the next booth over.

The diner goes so quiet that Soul can hear the adrenaline hammering of his heart. Liz's glare barely has time to fade when, from the next booth over— "Ow-chicka- _bow-wow_ , girl, you are divine!"

The restaurant explodes into chaos. Liz glances over her shoulder at the villain and then ducks under the table to join Soul, her eyes narrowed and darting, her hands still clenched around Soul's shirt. "Scoot the hell over, music boy, and explain to me what the _fuck_ is going on," she hisses, letting go of Soul's shirt.

Soul grabs his satchel from his seat (his music is there, and Demmi) as he watches the feet of diner patrons storming past them to vacate the building. "Can it wait til we get somewhere safe?" he asks distractedly, trying to decide if they can slip into the crowd without getting trampled or hit by a pulse of darkness.

" _Not without Tsubaki, it can't._ What did that motherfucker do to her?"

"Liz, dear," Tsubaki's voice croons over the chaos. "It's been so long since we've been together! Why don't you come out?" The clack of steel boots is disturbingly loud, and Soul flinches at every shadowy beam that streaks by.

"What?" Soul hisses, ignoring the villain.

Liz is scowling. "He has Tsubaki's bracelet," she says shortly. "He must've fucking... _mugged her in the bathroom_ or some shit." She starts to crawl out from under the table. " _I'm gonna fucking fight him._ "

"He—? No!" Soul hisses, grabbing her wrist.

"Stop right there!" a second voice rings out, and Soul sags with relief.

"Cataclysm moves _fast_ ," he mutters appreciatively.

"Who?"

"My— uh, one of the local superheroes," Soul explains under the sounds of Cataclysm and Tsubaki fighting. "And Tsubaki's... um. That's Tsubaki."

"What, the creep in knight's armor?" Liz says incredulously. "I'm not a fucking idiot, there's no goddamn way—"

Cataclysm's baton _punches through_ the table they're hiding under, thumping loudly against the floor between them. "If you're done flirting, you should maybe _run for it_ ," she calls down dryly.

"I'm finding Tsubaki," Liz decides, pulling her arm out of Soul's grasp and sliding out from under the table before Soul can stop her.

"Liz!" the villain exclaims happily. "It's me! Sort of. I'm Shadow Blade."

Cataclysm tackles Liz out of the way of a beam of light (not shadow, Soul notes). Shadow Blade makes a sound of frustration.

"You, get out here and get your date to safety," Cat spits.

"Not dating," Liz argues weakly while Soul scrambles over to Liz and pulls her to her feet, but she finally takes Soul's and Cataclysm's advice to _get out_. After several heart-stopping near misses with several silvery beams from Shadow Blade, Soul and Liz escape the diner and run.

" _What the **hell** is going on?_ " Liz pants at Soul as they dash down the sidewalk.

"Death City might... have a slight... supervillain problem," Soul pants back, frustrated at his lack of stamina. "I can't believe... there's _another_ one... it's been _maybe_... four hours. Tsubaki didn't... warn you?"

"You're serious." Liz's voice is completely flat as she swerves onto a side street. "I thought she was joking about her professors being crazy."

"The... first one... that showed up... was... a professor," Soul recalls. "Maybe... she wasn't... clear enough?"

"What happened to her?" Liz demands.

Soul shakes his head. "Nobody knows," he says helplessly. Demmi has never given a complete explanation. "Nearest guess... someone... feels... too negative... chance they'll turn... into a villain. Can we slow down?" he adds desperately. (He's going to have to start working out, he thinks sourly.)

Liz complies, possibly because she doesn't yet fully grasp the special brand of Dangerous that comes with supervillains, and probably also because she wants answers faster than Soul can provide at a sprint. "Too negative?" she asks skeptically. "What is this, a kiddy show? And what would Tsubaki have been upset about? How do we _save her_?"

Soul shrugs. "She's... your friend," he points out. "You've known her... longer. And we can't. Only Ladybug can."

"That's fucking _bullshit_." Liz is seething.

"We can help," Soul tells her. "Every villain has a... has a token, sorta. It's what's making them evil, and usually it's something that means a lot to them. When they're not evil, I mean."

Liz blinks. "The bracelet?" she says, softly.

Cataclysm lands in front of them. "She disappeared when you two left," she tells them, brow furrowed. "No, don't stop walking— we need to get somewhere more public so that Ladybug can find us."

"Shadow Blade's... targeting Liz," Soul informs her, and fights back the urge to reassure her that Ladybug will find them as soon as Soul himself can get away.

"I figured that out myself, thanks," Cataclysm snaps, the tone of her voice catching Soul off guard. "She's after you, too, you know. What'd you do to her?"

She's downright scathing. Soul wilts under her scorn. "Nothing! We were having dinner," he adds, feeling vaguely hurt that Cat would talk like that. Is he really this unlikable when he's not Ladybug?

"He was just trying to help, geez," Liz butts in.

"Thanks, but I don't need it," Cataclysm dismisses. "You sure you didn't piss her off somehow?"

"Soul didn't do anything. You need to _chill_ , lady."

"Cataclysm."

"What?"

"My name is Cataclysm. Ladybug is my partner."

"Well, she's late," Liz growls.

Soul grimaces. "I'm sure he's coming," he lies.

"Wait, _Lady_ bug is a dude? Bold move."

"Or an accident," Soul says wryly, regretting the thoughtless moment that had cemented his name.

"How do you figure?"

"He's ladybug-themed. Maybe he—"

"Just because _you_ can't imagine calling yourself Ladybug doesn't mean that no one can," Cataclysm interrupts snippily. "Besides, he might not have found out about Shadow Blade, yet."

Liz's brows approach her hairline. "You can't call him?" she demands.

Cataclysm's lips twist. "Due to... extenuating circumstances, we've not been able to exchange contact information," she explains frostily.

"Well, that's dumb."

Soul does his best to breathe. If he could just get away, he could stop being Soul and start being Ladybug and actually be _useful_. "Look, Cataclysm, you can take care of Liz, right?" he asks, desperately.

Cataclysm turns on him, scowling. "Well, yeah, I'm gonna have to hang around her until Shadow Blade comes back. Why? You gonna go?"

 _Like a coward,_ Soul hears in her tone, but he _can't do anything as Soul_. "I'd just get in your way if I stuck around," he mumbles, slowing to a stop as they near the Square, the hub of this particular shopping area, known best for the replica Statue of Liberty looming in the not-so-distance.

Liz is glaring daggers. "You're gonna leave me alone with this _kid_?" she asks flatly.

"I'm _small_ ," Cataclysm shoots back, irritated.

"Yeah, and you've got some serious issues—"

"Liz!"

It's Shadow Blade.

Soul bolts, because the last thing he needs is to get stuck in another fight as _Soul_. "Demmi!" he hisses, throwing himself into an alleyway.

"I'm here," the kwami replies, sounding muffled from Soul's bag.

"Spots on!"

Transformation is a giddy relief. He's Ladybug, now, cool and capable and no longer out of breath, and he's going to _save Tsubaki_. And Liz. And maybe lecture Cataclysm on how to talk to civilians.

He yo-yos himself onto a rooftop and crouches, eyes narrowed, taking in the action.

Shadow Blade has _minions_. He's not sure how he missed them in the diner, but shadowy, stylized stick figures swarm around Cataclysm, who is backed up against the fake Statue of Liberty. One of them has Liz in a bridal carry.

Well, now is as good a time as any for a charm. Soul flings his yo-yo skyward and squints at the object it gives him. A ball? He runs his fingers along the grooves. "A volleyball?" he blurts aloud, spinning it on a finger incredulously. What is he supposed to do with—

His eyes fall on the points of the crown of the statue. _How sharp are those points?_

"Ladybug!" Cataclysm howls. "If you're here, a little help would be nice!"

Time to go with his gut. Soul lobs the ball at the head of the statue and throws himself at Shadow Blade, who is waiting with open arms as Liz is carried toward her.

Shadow Blade sees him— he's not being subtle, he's charging straight for her— but at the enormous **pop!** she looks up reflexively.

Soul grabs for the darkened chain hanging from Shadow Blade's right wrist.

The token snaps under his weight. Soul tumbles to a kneeling halt and throws his yo-yo to catch the offending butterfly. "Gotcha!"

The shadowy stick-people don't falter, but Shadow Blade doesn't attack. "What—?" she blurts, bewildered, looking down at her hands.

"Almost thought you weren't gonna show, LB," Cataclysm sighs, sauntering up to Soul. "This landed on my head, by the way," she adds, holding out the red and black remains of the volleyball charm in her white gloves.

"Trust me," he says simply, taking the charm and throwing it into the air. " _Miraculous Ladybug!_ "

* * *

When Tsubaki snaps suddenly awake, Liz is crouched beside her, waiting. Tsubaki finds herself baffled by how big, how blue, how beautiful Liz's eyes are.

"Soul said that people only go evil when they're upset," Liz finally says after a long moment. "You wanna 'fess up?"

Tsubaki remembers the hurt, even though she no longer feels it. "I wanted dinner to be just us," she explains quietly.

Liz crosses her arms. "You could've uninvited him," she points out. "'Sides, I thought you wanted me to meet your friends."

"I didn't mean Soul." The words fall out thoughtlessly, and Tsubaki looks around bashfully, checking that none of the very confused people around them are or know Soul. "I mean, um. I don't know him that well. We only met a week ago! He seems like a good person, but I don't.... And you... you seemed to like him." She tries to smile and hopes she's not grimacing. "You always did like your musicians."

Liz wraps her arms silently around Tsubaki. "He's a cool kid," she finally says. "Make nice with him, yeah? I'd like us to see him performing in NYC some day. Us. Together."

Tsubaki hugs her friend back. "Yeah," she whispers back, and this time her smile feels real.

* * *

Stein finds himself at the Square, his memory familiarly and unsettlingly blank.

"What happened?" Marie blurts beside him.

Stein looks around. Last he remembers, he and Marie were having dinner with Spirit's daughter....

Hazy images of panic at the diner filter into his mind. "Ah. The Painted Lady," he realizes.

Marie looks worried. Scared? "She was controlling us?"

Stein shakes his head. "This time was different," he thinks aloud. "She didn't control us _directly_. It was... in the diner?"

Marie's jaw clenches. "Where's Maka?" she asks, fumbling for a bag that isn't there.

Stein reaches for his phone. "I don't have her number," he realizes aloud, even as he pulls his device out.

Marie groans in frustration. "Wait, you have Spirit's number, right?"

He does, and pulls up Professor Albarn in his messenger with a sigh. The man is going to be a juggernaut of anxious energy.

 _check on your daughter_ , Stein sends.

The Professor's reply is immediate. _Why? What happened?_

_supervillain_  
_marie and i were hit, but we're fine now_

"Marie!" someone bellows, and Stein and Marie both turn toward the name. Stein takes an automatic step back from the man barreling toward them, but Marie steps forward.

"Joe," Marie greets, wrapping her arms around the man who must be her fiancé.

Stein looks down and finds that he accidentally sent an unfinished _maka should be_. _*okay, we just lost her_ , he finishes.

"Are you okay?" Marie's fiancé asks.

"I'm fine. What hap—?"

"You," the man accuses, rounding on Stein, who looks up from Professor Albarn's barrage of worried texts. "Why didn't you protect her?" Joe demands.

"I don't have the means—" Stein replies automatically, honestly.

"Nevermind," Joe dismisses, quickly, turning back to a frowning Marie.

"Joe, what happened?"

"It's nothing. I'm sorry for yelling at you," Joe apologizes stiffly.

"No, you are correct," Stein begins.

"What happened?" Marie interrupts, tugging at Joe's sleeve, and Stein is suddenly struck by how _small_ she is.

Joe looks down at her. "People were calling into the office about another supervillain. I knew you were out somewhere, so I called you, but you weren't answering, so I came as soon as I could."

Marie leans into Joe's chest. "I— well, we got hit with _something_ ," Marie mumbles. "I think my bag must have gotten left in the diner. But we're fine! We're both fine. _I promise_ , Joe."

Marie is fine. That's good, isn't it? Stein massages his suddenly aching chest and turns away.


	3. Black☆Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: Black Star.

She's trying to grab breakfast with Tsubaki one morning when she spots pale, spiky hair in the cafeteria. "Wait a sec," she mutters, throwing out an arm and accidentally smacking Tsubaki in the gut.

Tsubaki clasps Maka's shoulder to regain her balance, and then peers over Maka's head. "Why? Oh. Is that Soul?"

"You know him?"

Tsubaki smiles. "I took him to health services, remember?"

Oh. Of course Tsubaki knows about her feud. "Do you mind if we go somewhere else, then? I already have to see him twice a week, I don't need more of him in my life."

Tsubaki looks confused. "Why? He doesn't seem the type to be full of himself."

Maka's lips twist, and she struggles to remember if he's ever done worse than be late to her classes. "... No, but I don't want to look at his face if I don't have to."

"He hasn't apologized?"

Maka scoffs. "Why would he? Dumb freshman."

Tsubaki purses her lips and walks around Maka's outstretched arm. "Hi, Soul!"

The boy turns and blinks. "Tsubaki?"

"You should join us," Tsubaki says as she strides over to him. Maka grimaces but follows.

Soul mutters something back to Tsubaki that Maka doesn't catch over the cafeteria din. (Disorienting. She's used to being able to hear _everything_ when she's Cataclysm.)

Tsubaki glances at Maka. Maka blinks stoically at her, glaring when she turns back to Soul.

"You haven't explained, yet?" Tsubaki asks him.

This time he's loud enough for Maka to catch the phrase, "Probably just gonna punch me," and Maka can't help but smirk. _Damn right I will._

In the end, Soul grabs his food and leaves, though he does nod awkwardly at her and say, also awkwardly, "See you at office hours."

Tsubaki smirks knowingly when he's gone. "Office hours?"

"I'm a TA, he's one of my students," Maka explains stiffly. "He doesn't have to show up, he just _does_. Ever since I sent him that email...."

"You emailed him?"

"B-because he was missing assignments! I thought, I dunno, maybe he was struggling with his personal life. I did that with Crona last year," Maka adds defensively at Tsubaki's growing smile. "Why do you like that guy so much, anyway? After what he said."

Tsubaki shakes her head. "I'm not explaining for him. Just give him a chance, okay? I promise he's not as bad as you think he is."

* * *

Ms Mira Nygus has a vaguely bedside manner about her. Marie is surprised at how different Nygus looks from Azusa (Nygus is as dark-skinned as Azusa was fair, with long hair to Azusa's crop), but this woman is at least as composed as her friend had been, which might be why Azusa had recommended Nygus in the first place.

"This is very helpful," Nygus finally says, looking up from Marie's overflowing wedding binder. She pulls several stapled packets from her desk and plops them precisely in front of Marie. "Some of those clippings are a little outdated, but it gave me a good idea of your style, so we should be able to narrow your options quite a bit."

Half an hour later, Marie finds herself standing outside of the woman's office, clutching her old binder and a thin, neatly stapled summary of their finds. "Those are tailored to you, of course, so you might want to talk to your fiancé, if he's interested in these sorts of things," Mira reminds her, leaning against her door. "If not, I'd still like to meet him at least once. I like knowing all of my clients."

"Of course!" Marie gushes. "Thank you again, Mira."

"Thank me at the wedding," Mira dismisses with a small smile. "I'll see you next week, Marie."

 _Just met Mira! Our wedding planner*_ , Marie texts to Joe once she's in her car. _I'm going home now, I can make you some lunch if you want?_

She drives home, checking her phone intermittently at stoplights, but there's no response. She kind of expects it, though. Joe is awful at checking his phone.

The door swings open just as Marie's key connects with the lock. She blinks owlishly up at her fiancé, who stands just beyond it. "Joe! Did you eat?"

Joe steps back to let her in, nodding. "I need to head back to the office," he tells her.

Marie steps into their apartment and presses a kiss to his jaw, the highest point she can reach. Then, stepping back and drinking him in, she frowns. "You've got that look," she tells him. "What's going on? Is work okay?"

Joe shakes his head. "I need to interview some... ex-villains."

Marie's brow furrows. "I hate that term," she admits quietly. "It sounds like they meant to turn into villains. It's just... a moment of weakness, you know? The Painted Lady is the one who makes them hurt people."

"Has Stein been telling you that?"

Marie flares indignantly. " _Franken_ doesn't tell me anything," she retorts, and then inspiration strikes. "Oh! You could interview him!"

Joe shakes his head. "We've tried. He's hung up every time."

"I'll talk to him," Marie decides. "We're getting coffee again next week, I'll tell him then."

"Marie, you don't have to—"

"No, _you_ keep telling me how journalism is all about connections," Marie counters. "Let me pull some strings for you. Besides, he was the first victim, wasn't he? It'll be a scoop!"

Joe sighs. "Alright, Marie."

* * *

"I should be a hero," Sebastian muses idly over lunch.

Maka freezes mid-bite. "Say again?" she finally asks after a careful swallow.

"I should be a hero," Seb repeats, pointing a forkful of crappy spaghetti at her. "Ladybug and Cataclysm do fine," he continues. "'Sides, I bet I could get more attention if I did it."

"Seb, Ell— Ladybug and Cataclysm aren't heroes for _attention_ , they actually fight evil."

Seb scoffs. "If by evil you mean someone who has a serious grudge against Shibusen U. They haven't actually hurt anyone, so how hard can this hero-ing stuff be?" Man, this whole thing was supposed to be a joke, because Maka has been sulking for all of lunch, but she's taking it way too seriously and, now that Seb thinks about it, how hard _can_ hero-ing be, really?

Maka stands, unfinished pasta in one hand. "I need to go to class," she says shortly, slinging her bag on her shoulder with her free hand.

"No, you don't," Seb complains, glancing at the clock. "But think about it! I'm at least as good a fighter as Cataclysm, and even if I can't replace Ladybug's weird clean-up power, I can deal with ordinary cri—"

" _Goodbye_ , Seb."

"You're not gonna throw all that away, are you, 'cause if you are—"

Maka inhales her pasta, cheeks bulging, and flips him off as she discards the empty pasta bowl and walks away. Weird. Seb shrugs, polishes off his own bowl, and chucks it at the nearest overflowing trash can, where it bounces off.

"Hey, you," someone calls. Seb turns and finds himself outsized by a _freaking huge-ass villain_. "It's jerks like you who destroy the environment," he booms. "Think it over."

The next thing Seb knows, he's on his hands and knees next to the trashcan with no memory of how he got there. Cataclysm is standing over him.

"Not so easy, is it?" she asks, extending a hand down to him.

"What?"

"Heroing," she says impatiently, as he takes her hand and she pulls him to his feet.

Seb blinks. "Whatever, you guys are like one-trick ponies."

" _Excuse me?_ "

"You do the same shit every time," Seb points out, dusting off his knees. "I dunno what even happened, but I bet Ladybug used Lucky Charm, saved your ass, and then sent out his ladybug swarm."

"He does not _save my ass_."

"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it. The hell do you even do?"

Cat crosses her arms. "You wouldn't understand. We're a team."

Seb scoffs. "Some team. You know Ladybug's won fights without you? If he can do his hero-ing alone, what's the point of you?"

Cat shrugs. "Hey, don't take out your wannabe-frustrations on me."

"You started talking to me first—" But she's already vaulting away on her fancy extending pole like a coward.

Rude. Seb seethes as he makes his way to the bus stop to catch the next ride downtown, back to his apartment. He checks his phone and curses when he sees several missed calls from work.

And _of course_ the first thing he sees when he gets to the bus stop is a flyer with Ladybug and Cataclysm's faces plastered on it. "Fuckin' _stupid_ ," he grumbles, ripping the damn thing off the signpost in frustration. "I'm not some fucking wannabe, I just think Cataclysm ain't the shit she thinks she is. Hell, I can break things just like she can."

He completely misses the butterfly that dissolves on the crumpled paper.

"Hello, Black Star. My name is The Painted Lady. I couldn't help but notice that Cataclysm wasn't being very heroic, was she?"

"No kidding," Seb mutters.

"I can make you a _real_ hero, Black Star," the woman continues. "In return, won't you destroy this awful school? You never really liked it in the first place, did you?"

Darkness swallows him, but he doesn't drown. "Consider it done, Painted Lady," Black Star agrees, teeth bared.

"Wonderful! Oh, a word of warning—"

"Ladybug and Cataclysm," Black Star agrees. "Leave 'em to me. I'll rip their Miraculous from them and show the world what _fakes_ they are."

* * *

" **Come out, Cataclysm!** "

Maka groans, throwing herself over the counter of the sushi bar as its staffers flee into the kitchen. "Again?" she complains, snagging the hunk of tuna that the chefs had been preparing for her.

Blerr purrs as she snuggles up against the tuna. " _Fish~!_ "

"Hurry up, we've got to get back out there," Maka says.

"Nyeah, yeah," Blerr dismisses, halving the tuna with one huge bite. Maka wrinkles her nose.

"You wan' the rest?" Blerr asks around her mouthful.

" _No._ "

The little creature shrugs. "More for me."

Maka waits for Blerr to finish gulping down the tuna. "Blerr, claws out!"

Seconds later, Cataclysm runs headfirst into someone around the corner leading to the corridor. She catches their shoulders automatically to keep them from falling. "Sorry— _Seb_?"

He looks like a _smurf_ with his perfectly white hair and clothes (ninja clothes?) and bright blue skin, but Maka knows that shade of blue anywhere. His black scarf waves dramatically in the windless corridor. "No! My name is Black Star. I gotta hand it to ya, you're less of a coward than I thought, Cataclysm."

Black Star? Maka's heart sinks at the memories of an eight-year-old Seb, small for his age but much bigger than the five-year-old Maka, chattering enthusiastically about black stars that had collapsed and become so big that they would swallow other stars whole. (She remembers reading about black holes, later, in a book that Papa had given her, and making the connection then.)

And then, of course, she's pissed, because this idiot of a friend wanted to be a hero so bad that he became a _villain_. "What do you mean, _coward_?"

He points at her. Given that they're nearly stepping on each other's toes, this means that Maka has to lean back so that his finger doesn't go up her nose. "Let's make a bet," he declares. "One-on-one combat. First one to get knocked to the ground loses. Your miraculous for... man, whatever the fuck you want, I guess."

"You don't have anything worth my miraculous," Maka spits.

Black Star smirks. "What, scared you'll lose?"

Maka seethes. "Of course not! Your token for my miraculous."

He sticks out his pinky finger. "Then it's a bet."

Maka takes it, the motion old and familiar. Then, swiftly, she bulls forward.

Black Star back flips instead of falling, sending Maka flying. She twists in midair, landing on her hands and feet. Her tail belt wraps around one of her legs and tucks neatly into her boot.

He's still back flipping toward her. Maka throws herself forward to get out of the way.

Ladybug is standing suddenly in front of her, and he throws his yo-yo at Black Star. It wraps around his foot, pulling him off his feet and to the ground. Maka yells wordless victory, and then Black Star starts _laughing_.

"I won," she yells indignantly.

"You _cheated_ ," Black Star retorts.

Ladybug withdraws his yo-yo uncertainly. "What's going on?" he asks.

"She made a bet," the villain explains. " _One-on-one combat._ But since you two are double-teaming losers, the bet is judged in my favor." He flips to his feet and extends his hand, waiting. "The price was your miraculous."

"We're a team! Ladybug didn't know!" Maka protests, even as Ladybug declares, " _Lucky charm!_ "

But a ring appears in Black Star's hand, the black flaking away to silver. Detransformation is inevitable. Maka grasps mentally for the power that's slipping away like water through cupped hands—

And then everything goes black. Maka fumbles blindly to escape the heavy velvety cloth now draped over her until Ladybug's voice cuts in: "That's enough."

"Maka?" Blerr asks. Maka startles at the kwami's sleepy, confused voice. "Where are we?"

"Shh!" Maka whispers. "Are you— do you need fish? I can try going back to the sushi bar—"

"Come at me, bro!" Black Star yodels. "We can wager evenly now, miraculous for miraculous!"

"No," Ladybug counters. "If you care so much about fairness, let's even the odds a little."

Black Star scoffs. "Don't bullshit with me, Ladybug."

"No bullshit. I wager Cataclysm's identity for her miraculous, and my miraculous for your token. Fair? Or are you scared you'll lose the wager?"

"Alright. Same bet: one-on-one, first one to get knocked down loses."

"I have four minutes before the wager becomes pointless," Ladybug says calmly. "One minute to get away. I'd have to beat you in three minutes, or I'd lose anyway. How about a little challenge? In three minutes, you either guess Cataclysm's identity or take my miraculous from me by hand."

"You're on!"

There's the familiar clattering of Ladybug's yo-yo against the walls and the floor, accompanied by the sound of the building doors opening. The battle fades from hearing within a few seconds, and silence descends.

"What happened, kitten?" Blerr asks quietly.

Maka bites her lip. "I lost a bet," she admits, grasping at the fabric of Ladybug's lucky charm and carefully lowering herself to the ground to sit and wait.

"What kind of a bet?"

"The magically enforced kind. I didn't think I'd lose," she explains moodily, running her hand along the velvet. "And I didn't! It was a technicality."

"Oh, kitten."

"You never said you needed fish."

"Your ring was taken by force. That cancels the contract."

The doors crashes open once more. "— I don't have to _guess_ ," Black Star declares, and Maka feels a hand grab a hank of her hair through the fabric.

She shrieks. The hand vanishes. "But didn't I say that you have to _guess_?" Ladybug says, so smug that Maka can hear the smirk on his face. "It's not a guess if you know. I believe that means you've cheated."

"You stopped me before I could find out!"

"Nice try, but it looks like your magic agrees with me." There's a short, sharp ripping sound.

Maka unclenches her hand, notices— "Blerr!"

"Say the words and I'm your cat," Blerr purrs back.

"Claws out!"

And the magic rushes back. Maka, delighted, pulls the Ladybug's mystery fabric (a velvet curtain) over her head. The lights of the corridor blind her.

Ladybug is releasing the butterfly when she reaches him. "Cataclysm," he greets warmly, turning to her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Maka says over the beeping of Ladybug's cufflinks.

"The charm—"

"Here."

His smile robs her breath. "Thanks. _Miraculous ladybug!_ "

"You should go," Maka manages to say after a moment.

"I'm aware, Cat," he says wryly. "You'll make sure he's okay?" He nods at Seb, who is sitting against the wall of the corridor.

"Of course." She salutes him as he makes his escape, and then turns to her friend.

She steps on a piece of paper as she walks toward him. It's a flyer advertising interviews with previous villains, with pictures of Ladybug and herself plastered over the entire top half. She picks it up and squats next to him. "Is this yours?"

Seb glances at it. "Nah. Ripped it off a bus stop— _shit_ , I am _so_ late for work."

Maka reads over the flyer. "Well, looks like you qualify for this now. That's a lot of cash, too."

Seb snatches it out of her hand. "Oh. What, come to rub in what a shitty hero I was?"

Maka shakes her head. "Nah. Aside from the villain part, you weren't half bad."

Seb squints suspiciously at her. "You joking?"

Maka shrugs. "It was a pretty even fight. Ladybug got you with a technicality, though."

"Wow, _lame_."

"Says the guy who got _me_ on a technicality." She pauses. "You were a good fighter. You'd probably have been a decent hero. Y'know, if you'd ever gotten to the hero part." She stands and holds out her hand.

Seb inspects it for a moment before taking it with a scoff. "What'm I, a grasshopper?"

Maka pulls him to his feet effortlessly. "Only if you wanna be. We good?"

"We good."

* * *

Marie knocks on Joe's office door and pokes her head inside. "I brought coffee!"

Joe glances at her. "Thanks, Marie."

Marie approaches his desk and sets his mug of coffee down on a bare patch of table that Joe hastily clears for it. She sits at the chair across from him, waits for him to take a sip, and then tells him, "I texted Franken, he said he'd come over next week. You know, when I said we'd be going for coffee. I know you'll be working, but you can tell them you have a scoop, right?"

Joe startles out of his thoughts. "Marie, I told you you didn't have to—"

"— and I told you I wanted to," Marie interrupts. "Oh! And if you have time, can we look over some wedding plans?"

His blink is slow and deliberate. "Marie, would you... would you mind if we moved?"

" _What?_ " Her mind races. She'd have to cancel with Mira and break contract with their landlady and look for another apartment... "But we just moved here! Where would we go? _Why_ would we go?"

Joe sighs, avoiding her eyes. "Nevermind."

Marie stares at him. "Joe, you can't just... _nevermind_ everything away. Talk to me."

He fiddles with his mug of coffee. "Marie, it's... not safe here. There's a new villain every day, and I can't protect you."

He's right, sort of. "That's not your job," she reminds him. "That's Ladybug and Cataclysm's job! You should know, right? You've been trying to catch them after fights, and they haven't missed a villain yet!"

"What if they do?"

"... What?"

Joe finally looks at her. "What if they mess up, Marie? What if they— They're not unstoppable, Marie, this isn't a story, this is _real life_. What if Ladybug and Cataclysm fail?"

He's so scared, Marie realizes. "No one ever gets hurt," she reminds Joe quietly. "Even if they lose—"

"One of our interns disappeared for _hours_ because he was caught up in two consecutive villain fights. _You disappeared,_ Marie, when Shadow Blade..."

He loses his voice. When it becomes clear that he has no more words, Marie speaks. "But you were okay," she says softly. "You were okay, and you would have saved me."

Joe looks back down at his laptop. "Thanks for the coffee, Marie."

* * *

Soul lingers after the TA session that afternoon, loitering around his desk even as most of her students finally filter out. Maka tries to leave, too, but he calls her name.

"Maka?"

Something about his tone makes her scowl longingly at the hallway, even though every other time he's approached her, it's always been about poetry. "Yes, Soul?" she asks politely, schooling her face into a mostly-harmless smile as she turns to him.

He's standing, shoulderbag strap slung across his chest. His eyes are trained on the floor. He's taller than her even when he's slouching, Maka re-realizes with a vaguely disgruntled feeling, struggling harder to keep the scowl of her face. His pose reminds her vividly of that one girl who had confessed to her in high school, which doesn't help her composure. If this kid actually tries to ask her out, she's not sure what she'll do to him, or what the consequences will be, but it won't be pretty.

"... I'm sorry," Soul finally mutters, still staring at his feet. "About... um."

"You'll have to be a little more specific," Maka says dryly.

He takes a deep breath. Lifts his eyes. Briefly, briefly meets her eyes, and promptly drops them back to the ground. His ears redden. "I'm sorry... I called you... flat," he apologizes, cringing. "I, uh. I meant—"

"That I'm a tiny-titted bitch, yeah," Maka interrupts, unable to help herself, but she's not going to stand here and take an _insincere apology_.

Soul's head jerks up. The whites of his eyes are fully visible around his irises. (They're a deep, rich, familiar brown that Maka can't quite place.) "Wh-what?" he stammers.

"Am I wrong?" she asks flatly.

His brow furrows. "Would you believe me if I said you were?" he asks quietly. (Maka takes a moment to lament that the prettiest boys seem to also be the nastiest.)

Maka snorts. "I'm looking forward to your excuse."

"... I was talking about your voice."

That's a new one. "What?" Maka asks, incredulous.

Soul shifts uncomfortably, dropping his gaze back to the floor. "You were singing along, remember? Cascada. And, um. Your voice... was flat."

That sounds just fake enough to be an actual thing. _Just give him a chance, okay?_ Tsubaki had told her just this morning. _I promise he's not as bad as you think he is._

Soul is still stammering. "And, um. That's also not cool, so I'm still sorry. I mean, I know it's— I just— Tsubaki's been bugging me about it— and you're, you're— that doesn't mean it didn't hurt you for— it's not like I think you should just forgive me—"

"H-hey."

Soul shuts up.

"Treat me to dinner and— I'll think about it," Maka blurts. _What?_ Damn his adorable stuttering!

"N-now?"

Between Tsubaki talking to Soul in the morning and Seb turning into Black Star, today's meals are apparently fated to be taxing. "Why the fuck not," Maka sighs, surrendering to the idea.

If he tries passing this off as a date, though, she's going to give him another black eye.


	4. The Matchmaker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: annoying parents, confused asexual/aromantic anxiety, attempted arranged marriage.

If Maka had ever been less than fair, maybe Soul would have gotten over his helpless, fascinated infatuation with her. If Maka had ever been less than fair, maybe Soul would have written off his vague attraction to her as nothing more than an aesthetic appreciation for her delicate frame and very indelicate strength. If Maka had ever been less than fair, maybe Soul never would have made a habit of going to her office hours.

Then again, he's not as utterly awed at Maka's terrifying competence these days, though her attempts at friendliness between classes are still intimidating. He's not good at making friends, and being attracted to her makes things harder, because he's terrified of doing something _wrong_.

He should have known that someone else would have messed up for him if he didn't.

"Soul, get packing, we gotta go," Wes says, dropping his bag beside Soul's chair as he sweeps past the table reserved for Maka's office hours. "Lemme grab a drink and then we'll go, okay?"

Maka blinks across the table at Soul. He shrugs back at her.

"You have a brother?" she asks.

"Y-yeah, he's part of the reason I transferred here," Soul explains, gathering his things. "Sorry for bailing, but he doesn't get panicked about much, so it's probably something big." It _better_ be something big, at least.

Wes returns at that moment. "Sorry for stealing him," he tells Maka apologetically, though he shoots Soul a look of unmasked glee. "I can make it up to you. Dinner, maybe? Concert tickets?"

Soul scowls and stacks his books together a little too fast, slicing a middle finger open on a loose sheet of paper. " _Fuck_ ," he hisses under his breath.

"No, thank you," Maka says graciously to Wes. Soul glances tentatively at her, and she's wearing that same forced smile she would give Soul before he apologized to her. "Don't worry about it, no one else is here to disturb."

"No one else?"

"These are my office hours."

" _Really._ " But Wes's voice is sly.

"What's the emergency?" Soul interrupts.

"Hm? OH." Wes fiddles with the cap on his bottle of tea. "Mam's coming to town."

Soul nearly drops his laptop. " _What?_ When?"

"Today."

"WHAT. Why is she only telling us now?"

"She isn't, Gran is. Texted as soon as Mam left the house, so we've still got a couple hours, but we gotta get our shit together at the house."

Soul is already on his feet. "It's mostly your shit," he complains, throwing the strap of his bag over his head. "Sorry, Maka, I gotta—"

She waves him away. "Don't worry about it. If you need me, you can text. Have fun with your mom!"

"I'll return him next week!" Wes calls back to Maka he and Soul speed-walk toward the library entrance. "Who is she, really?" he adds to Soul.

"She's my TA," Soul says irritably, hoping that Maka isn't still in earshot.

"Is that all?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Wes smirks as they leave the library. "Because it's the Friday before mid-semester break. Why is she holding office hours on the Friday before mid-semester break?"

Soul opens his mouth. Closes it. "I dunno? I didn't... really think about it," he admits. "Office hours are every Friday morning. I got used to coming."

" _You get up for her?_ " Wes sounds absolutely delighted.

"Not!" Soul splutters, glancing around the sidewalk even though he knows Maka is still in the library. " _No_ , it's... a scheduling thing. It helps me get up on Friday and catch up on homework."

Wes nudges him. "Be honest."

Soul groans. "Look, she's cool, but she's not— she's the one who punched me for calling her flat, okay?"

" _What._ "

"And I apologized but it's not like that's going to magically—"

" _She can't match pitch?!_ "

The crosswalk signal is red. Soul reels to a halt and puts both hands over his eyes. "No, she can't match pitch," he confirms dryly.

"Well, we can leave that out when we tell Mam," Wes muses.

Soul drops his hands to glare at his brother. "We're not telling Mam about Maka," he hisses. "Maka and I aren't dating! We're barely even friends! It's not going to happen. It's never going to happen! She's just gonna fucking... wanna meet her or some shit! I had to apologize for calling her f-flat, I can't ask her to pretend to be my goddamn g-girlfriend!"

Wes huffs. "Mam doesn't have to meet her, and let's face it, she'll be over the moon at just the idea that you actually like someone, and it'll get her off both our backs."

"... Fine," Soul relents, disgruntled. The crosswalk starts beeping, blinking a white walking man. "But if Maka finds out, you have to pay for my funeral, because she's going to kill me."

* * *

"Your name?"

"Franken Stein."

"Job?"

"Assistant professor."

"What is your field of research?"

"Psychology."

"And your current study?"

"A collaboration with the anthropology department of my university."

"A secret study?"

"The field is very competitive. I would like not to be plagiarized before publishing."

Marie's fiancé laughs. He has a marvelous poker face, Stein notes.

"I can relate," the man agrees. "Journalism is similar. Now, you were the first supervillain that the city experienced, correct?"

"So I am told."

"But nothing like this current epidemic has happened before?"

"Certainly not in my memory."

"You were White Rabbit, correct?"

"So I am told."

"You don't remember?"

"I was in my lab. Then I was in the park. It was quite disorienting."

"This would be the same lab in which you are researching in."

"Correct."

"There's a popular rumor going about that villains arise when they are feeling particularly negative. Is that indicative of your research?"

"Absolutely not."

"Would you care to expand on that statement?"

"A colleague was pestering me."

"Schoolroom bullying at your age?"

"We have been described as 'vitriolic best buds.'"

The man leans forward. "You really don't know what happened?"

"There were no prior cases with which to contextualize the experience, or rather, the lack thereof."

"But you haven't examined what happened then with what has happened since?"

"Not particularly."

Joe leans back against his chair. "Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Stein."

Stein stands with a neutral hum. "Shall I show myself out?"

Marie knocks and pokes her head into the room. "I brought some refreshments," she chirps. "Oh, are you done already? How was it?"

"It was fine," Stein says.

"Are you leaving already?" Marie asks, setting the tray of drinks down on the table. "I'm making lunch, if you'd like!"

"No, thank you, Marie. I don't think your fiancé likes me," he adds under his breath as he passes her.

Marie blinks, glances at Joe, and follows Stein to the door. "Why not?" she whispers, baffled.

Stein shrugs. "Who knows? Perhaps something to do with relationship jealousy."

Marie's lashes are _long_. "Joe is an adult. He trusts me." But she leans up and pecks his jaw (the highest part of him she can reach without him stooping). "Good luck on your work!"

He blinks down at her. Marie doesn’t seem to realize why, staring innocently back at him, until suddenly she does. “See you later,” she half-screeches, and shoves him out the door.

* * *

Wes and Soul both freeze at the knock on the door. "Keep setting up the room," Wes hisses, "I'll go distract her—" and he barrels down the stairs.

"Mam! What a surprise!" he exclaims, throwing open the door.

She sweeps past him to squint critically at the tiny living room. "You've been living here?" she asks. "I should have come sooner. Where's Soul?"

"Office hours," Wes lies, wincing at the audible thump from upstairs.

Mam is frowning. "Was that the maid? She's sounds like she's breaking things up there. You should fire her."

"The house has thin walls, that's all," Wes sighs. "If you leave your bags at the door, she'll—"

"You should find a better house, then," Mam interrupts, steamrolling over his attempt to get her out of the house so Soul can finish setting up her room. "I can help you find one this weekend if you don't have time."

"This one is fine, Mam. It's in a good location."

"I saw a mansion just down the street, why don't you live there?"

"... That would be Shibusen Place. It's a dorm building, Mam."

Mam wrinkles her nose. "How tasteless. Who's taking my bags, then?"

"I am. If we leave them inside the door, S— ah, the maid will bring them to your room."

"Why doesn't the maid bring them in?" Mam asks, indignant, striding toward the stairs.

Wes grabs her shoulders and steers her away from them. "Because there's only one of, uh, her, and she can't be in two places at once. It's not a big deal. Here, sit, wait, I'll bring in your bags, and I can show you Shibusen University. You want to look at the concert hall, right?"

Mam crosses her arms. "Let the maid take them in when she's done up there. I'll go give her the keys—"

"Orrrrr we can leave it right here on the mantel! We don't even have to go up and tell her because the walls are so thin and she _pays attention_ , isn't that nice?"

Mam gives him a hard stare. "Well, alright," she finally agrees, and follows him obediently out the door.

"Are you sleeping with her?" she asks bluntly the second she's out of the house. Wes nearly trips off the little porch as she continues, "It's fine, just don't get her pregnant. Unless you're planning on keeping her as a mistress, of course, but even then it's wiser to be married first so you don't get her hopes up."

"I'm not... sleeping with her." He hopes she can't hear the mixed horror and laughter shaking his voice as he unlocks his car door. (He lives close enough to campus that he doesn't usually drive there, but he suspects Mam would not appreciate the walk, so he's resigned to suffering through campus parking this time.)

Mam climbs in the passenger door. "You don't have to hide it, just find someone more respectable."

Wes sighs as he starts the car. "No one's caught my eye."

"No one ever catches an Evans's eye. I certainly didn't."

Wes snorts. "Soul's eye has been caught, actually," he volunteers.

Mam swivels her head and stares. "Excuse me? By whom? How long has this been going on?"

Wes shrugs. "You know Soul. He's secretive. I only found out today, and he even admitted to liking her."

Mam gasps delightedly. " _Oh thank goodness._ He's never even dated, has he? He must be serious about this one, then. If he can get married— ooh, that would put me over the moon!" Wes begins to relax, but then Mam sighs. "But what about you, Wes? You're nearly thirty, but you haven't dated in years! When was your last girlfriend, again? Maybe she's still interested."

"Mam, please—"

"I can find a girl for you, you know, you're still handsome, they'll be lining up for days. Of course, being an Evans helps... Oh! We could pull some strings and put you on The Bachelor! You would be so handsome on television...."

"There's no need for that," Wes interrupts hastily, but she's off, gossiping happily over previous seasons of reality TV. At least it's put her off the subject of his nonexistent love life.

Too many minutes later, he snags a lucky parking spot on the street. "There's still a little bit of a walk," he announces, interrupting a rant about ingrate fashion designers.

Mam grumbles as she gets out. "Of course there is. What self-respecting university would ever let its students drive through its campus?"

She doesn't need an answer: she's complaining again, this time about Shibusen U. The enormous, Beaux-Arts style arts building almost mollifies her— until she realizes that it's the arts building and not just a concert hall.

"What on earth is keeping you at this horrible school?" she fumes in the entrance hall. "You have more than enough credentials for a position at Juilliard, why are you still here?"

 _To escape._ Wes is happy here, tutoring students in violin and performing at local concerts and, lately, checking on the little brother who now lives with him. "It's charming," he tries to explain, even though he knows Mam can never be satisfied. "I make a good living here."

"A good living." The phrase drips with skepticism. "You don't even have a girlfriend."

"The acoustics in the hall are really quite lovely. I can fetch a violin and play for you, if you like," he deflects.

Mam crosses her arms. "All the way from that tiny house?"

Wes shakes his head. "No, of course not. The music school has an instrument rental system. Teachers have free access."

She looks unconvinced. "Go ahead, but don't think for a second that you're getting out of this talk," she threatens, raising her voice as he walks away from her.

Wes manages a vague reply as he leaves the hall. _Feel nothing, feel nothing,_ he thinks, taking the stairs down to the basement two at a time. When he reaches the rental instrument lockers, he kneels, pulls out a violin case, opens it, unhooks a bow to inspect it for flaws or scratches... and takes a deep, sobbing breath, his hands stilling on the bow stick.

He'd nearly forgotten why Soul hadn't wanted to come to Shibusen: to keep Mam from having a good enough reason to visit. Shibusen is far, far away from any of their homes, and it's kept Wes from family for nearly a decade now. Bar the occasional phone call home to placate his mother, Wes hasn't contemplated romance in years. Relationships, maybe, out of a vague sense that he should be in one, but whenever he had tried matching romance with any of his coworkers, nothing had stuck. The idea of it remains utterly alien to him.

He's broken, he used to think, he _still_ thinks when he receives wedding invitations from high school and university acquaintances. Perhaps there's a version of himself somewhere that isn't like this, who sleeps happily with the women (and men) who proposition him, who isn't repulsed by the thought of sex, who had actually settled with one of his exes.

He's glad that Soul has found someone, glad that his little brother doesn't have to feel broken, too, but he's jealous. Jealous that Soul had always seemed fine with being along, jealous that Soul gets to feel normal now. Wes is the elder brother, the charismatic one, the successful one, but that also chains him to the family legacy while Soul can slip away.

Unless, perhaps, Soul marries first. If he does, if he passes on the Evans' name to a child, Wes might be able to escape.

But does he really want that for Soul?

A black butterfly lands on the tip of the violin bow still in his hands. Wes blinks, but it's gone, and the bow is suddenly black, even the bowstring. _Black bow hair is coarser_ , he thinks idly.

"He'd be happy, Matchmaker," someone points out. "You have my word as The Painted Lady."

Wes shakes his head uncertainly. "He might have survived longer in the house, but he cried so much, and cared so much," he says softly. _The secret is to stop caring,_ he'd told a sobbing Soul, before he'd left for Shibusen, back when he still knew how not to care. He must have forgotten in the years since.

"Why do you care, then?"

He has no answer.

"So just have them married."

Wes nods and stands. "I can do that," he says, watching as a black substance engulfs him.

"I look forward to the happy news," The Painted Lady purrs. "Would you mind doing me a favor in return? I want Shibusen University shut down."

Something in him twinges at that. Shibusen has supported him for such a long time now....

"At the very least, bring the university president to me," The Painted Lady wheedles. "Before or after you arrange your brother's marriage, it doesn't matter to me. I can be patient."

"I would be honored to repay you," Matchmaker agrees.

"Ma'am, I'm afraid you can't be back here without a student or an ID—"

"Wes? Where are you?"

He turns at his mother's voice. "Mother," he greets calmly. "What do you say we get Soul married?"

Mother stares at him. "Wes? Is that you? Where did you get that ridiculous costume?"

"I'm not Wes," Matchmaker says calmly. "I am Matchmaker."

She frowns. "What's going on here?" she demands, whirling on the student who had been trying to get her out of the rental room, but they are gone, having fled.

"How about a bargain?" Matchmaker asks smoothly. "If Soul is married by the end of the day, you'll never speak to me about getting a partner."

He sweeps past her without waiting for her answer.

* * *

At first, the couple that barges into the wedding dress shop is just an exceptionally rude pair of customers.

Mira shoots them a disapproving glance and turns back to Marie. "What do you think of this one?"

Marie inspects the lacy mass of fabric on her torso. "I don't know," she says dubiously.

Mira makes a note on her phone. "What about the back?"

"The cut is strange, isn't it? But I like showing the skin."

Mira nods. "Any feelings on the skirt?"

Marie takes a few tentative steps around the mirrors. "I kind of like the slit," she offers, "but the skirt is a little short—"

She is inexplicably silenced by an angry, resonant violin chord. As the notes fade, a man says firmly, "She needs a dress today."

Marie finally looks at the rude couple, and is startled to find that one of them is _Maka_.

Maka meets her eyes. _Get out_ , the younger woman mouths, her green eyes wide and desperate.

Marie's eyes sweep to Maka's apparent partner: pale of hair, fair of skin, and tall and thin in black priestly robes, trimmed with red, holding a violin bow in one hand and Maka's wrists in the other, even as Maka tugs furiously to escape his grasp. He looks almost normal except for the bright red circles pasted onto his cheeks like a caricature of a blush. "She's getting married to my brother," the villain explains calmly.

One of the attendants is staring at Maka struggling to get away from the villain's iron hold, and she opens her mouth as though to protest, but no words come out. She stops, confusion twisting her face, and her hand lifts her her throat.

Marie snaps out of her bewildered inaction, striding over and smacking the villain's wrist. He jumps and looks down at her, but he doesn't let go of Maka.

"I apologize for the inconvenience, but that was rather rude," he frowns, and then his expression brightens. "Oh! I can make it up to you! We can have a joint wedding."

Marie exchanges a deadpan look with Maka, but part of her is tickled at the idea. She and Joe are getting married eventually anyway, so why not take advantage of this matchmaker of a villain and have it done with now?

"Lend me some of your hair and I can call your lover here," the villain offers, extending his hand.

 _That_ doesn't sound at all like she's offering her soul to a villain. Still, this particular villain seems well-intentioned enough toward Marie, so she pulls her hair out of its bun, combs her fingers through it, and offers the villain the stray strands. Maka looks absolutely livid at the exchange, but the villain releases her wrists to take the hair, giving her the chance to escape, and escape she does, bursting through the shop doors.

She doesn't get any further before she is stopped by a single note.

The villain is frowning, his bow lifted as though he is playing a nonexistent violin, Marie's offered hair hanging loosely from his left hand.

"Where was I?" he muses. Marie's hair unwinds magically, stringing itself into an invisible violin. "Ah, yes."

Marie has an instant to regret her decision before the music leaves her absolutely breathless with rapture. The song is _Marie_ in a way she never knew was possible: sparking and forgiving and certain of her wants in the world.

The villain stops playing, but the music continues. Marie's offered hair slips to the floor of the shop and glows, and suddenly she is blinking up at Franken.

_What?_

* * *

Soul's phone blows up with texts right as he finishes bringing the last of Mom's bags to her room. By the time he's worked the phone out of the pocket of his jeans, Mom is calling.

"Well at least _you're_ answering," she grumbles.

"Hi, Mom."

"You need to help me find Wes." She sounds angry. Soul makes a face at Demmi, who is watching sympathetically from his perch on the headboard of the guest bed.

"Is he gone?" Soul asks, suddenly struck by how out of character that seems.

"Yes, he's gone, he's gone off on his own and he's not picking up his phone and all he said was that he'd have you married by the end of the day, which would be fantastic but impossible," Mom rambles.

Marriage? What did he say to Mom? _What did Mom say to him?_ Wes always been the better of the brothers, better at performing, better at not caring. Soul is absolutely baffled at the idea that he'd just _wander off_ and leave Mom to her own devices.

"— and you wouldn't believe the ridiculous costume he was wearing, Soul, he looked like some kind of punk clown priest, with his skin all powdered and two great big _honking_ red circles on his cheeks and his hair tied back, I don't know _how_ I didn't notice that his hair had gotten _so long_. And then he just left! Isn't picking up his phone at all! Took the car keys with him!"

Definitely a villain. "Where are you?" Soul asks. "It could be dangerous."

"If by dangerous you mean that everyone at this godforsaken school is _horribly rude_. You're on campus, aren't you? I'm at the concert hall. Come find me and we can go look for your brother."

"I have class now," Soul lies, and hangs up. "Wes turned villain," he tells Demmi, who zips over from across the little bedroom.

"Let's go, then!" Demmi cries.

Soul punches his arm into the air. "Demmi, _spots on_!"

A few minutes later, Soul has reached campus, but all is quiet. _Where is Wes?_ Every villain so far has attacked Shibusen almost immediately.... He stops on a roof to try and call Cataclysm with his yo-yo (Demmi had finally saw fit to inform him of this particular perk only last night), but the call doesn't connect.

A humming circle of light appears on the roof underneath him. He tries instinctively to jump away, but the ring follows him, and he tumbles onto a little shopping street.

"You're not Soul."

It's Wes, or rather Wes's villain persona. Soul scrambles to his feet, head spinning with fading melodies as he tries to get his bearings. It looks like they're around the Square, outside some kind of boutique. Maka is standing on the sidewalk a few feet away, stiff and unmoving but definitely angry.

"I suppose I should have expected this," Not-Wes muses. "Or, well, something like it. I guess I'll have to fetch Soul after I deal with you, Ladybug."

Soul feels a shiver crawl down his spine at the mention of his name and knows intuitively that the combination of Maka and himself has something to do with his discussion with Wes. Wordlessly, he wraps an arm around Maka's waist and throws his yo-yo to bring them to the nearest roof, where shifts his hold on Maka to a bridal carry and starts running.

She unfreezes after a couple rooftops. _So Not-Wes has a radius or a time limit,_ he notes. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine," Maka replies. "Um. You can put me down."

Soul glances behind him. "He isn't following me?"

Maka shakes her head.

And then a thought pops into his head. "How did he summon me?"

Maka flushes. "He used my hair as violin strings," she says quietly. "Something about needing me to marry his brother? _No thank you._ "

Soul can't help but flinch a little. "You are opposed."

" _Extremely._ "

Morbid curiosity drives him on. "I take it you don't like the brother."

Maka makes a face. "No. And I doubt he likes me, especially not romantically." The words are like a punch to the gut.

"So W— the villain has your hair, and plays violin, and his powers are music-based, right?"

"He made everyone mute and made me freeze," she agrees. "And, um. He summoned you and one other guy."

Soul vaguely remembers the civilian White Rabbit standing in the boutique. "The same way?" he asks.

Maka nods. "He used someone else's hair for it."

"So different hair summons different people," Soul muses. "I wonder what the rule is...."

"I mean, with a name like Matchmaker, it seems a little obvious, right?"

Soul blinks. "Does it?" he starts to say, but a ring of light appears on the roof underneath him. "I guess my time is up. _Lucky charm!_ "

A roll of toilet paper drops into his hands before the light engulfs him.

* * *

Stein has very little idea of what is going on. This is not unusual for him, but ordinarily he is at least in the familiar setting of his lab.

He is not in his lab.

Marie is staring at him with mixed horror and confusion, and he is not in his lab with the study participant that he was in the middle of monitoring.

"The chord should wear off as soon as I step outside, and then you can fill him in on what is going on," a priest with a long white ponytail is telling Marie. "Please excuse me while I call the final participant in our happy event." And he walks out of the door of the dress shop that Stein has mysteriously found himself in.

" _Why did it call you?_ " Marie explodes.

"Why did what call me?"

"This can't be right," she mutters, avoiding his gaze. "Unless— oh, that is _embarrassing_."

"I am not embarrassed," Stein points out.

"Of course _you're_ not!"

A light flashes outside, drawing Stein's attention to the other side of the glass door of the boutique, where Ladybug is scrambling to his feet. After a moment of hesitation, he runs past the priest and scoops up a girl and makes his escape.

The priest watches with exasperation as they go, but doesn't chase them, instead lifting his violin bow as though about to play despite the lack of a visible violin.

Marie storms outside before he can begin. "This is not my fiancé," she says flatly, gesturing at Stein, who has followed her outside.

The priest turns to look at Stein, who finally notices the enormous, bright red circles on the man's stark white cheeks. "Oh?" the villain says. "But he loves you most."

That _is_ embarrassing.

"If you want to call your fiancé with your phone, go ahead," the villain tells Marie, who looks surprised and more than a little relieved. "I've got a ladybug to catch." And he turns away, lifting his bow once more.

Somehow, Stein hears the music. _Courage_ , he thinks, and _stubbornness_. Several strands of hair on the ground, previously unnoticeable, now glow brightly, and then Ladybug is back, stuffing something into his ears. A roll of toilet paper drops to the ground.

The song changes into a commanding one ( _chase_ ), and Stein finds himself and Marie lurching clumsily toward Ladybug. Ladybug ducks out of the way. Stein and Marie crash together awkwardly.

He doesn't see what happens next, but he hears a _snap!_ , and the music halts immediately.

"Come here, little butterfly," Ladybug yells. "I free you from evil!"

Stein turns in time to see Ladybug catch his yo-yo and release a pure white butterfly from its case. The priest is already no longer a priest, and looks vaguely confused.

Ladybug walks back past Stein, picking up the roll of toilet paper. " _Miraculous Ladybug!_ " he chants, throwing it into the air, where it dissolves into a swarm of ladybugs.


	5. Have Faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: a nasty break-up, varying levels of Man Pain (TM), alcohol mention, and Seb bringing up the freaking pen15 game.

Marie fiddles with her keys at her apartment door, wondering despairingly how she's going to drag Joe from DCNews for long enough to go see their wedding planner. Nygus has remained calm, at least, but the woman's initial no-nonsense attitude has flagged significantly since they first met, and she's suggested delaying the wedding because Marie doesn't want to decide on anything without Joe backing her up, and Joe is....

Marie sighs. She loves Joe, she _does_ , that's why she's marrying him, but trying to talk to the man when he is feeling as reclusive as he has been is a feat bordering on herculean. His work hasn't helped either: with a new supervillain every other day, Marie has found herself sleeping alone more often than not lately.

The door swings open just as Marie's key connects with the lock. She blinks owlishly up at her fiancé, who stands just beyond it. "Joe! You're home early. How was work?"

Joe steps back to let her in. "Marie." He sounds exhausted. "We need to talk."

She's relieved. "Yes!" she exclaims, nearly falling over as she wrestles her heels off. "Yes, please. You've been so quiet lately—"

"Marie, do you love me?"

Marie loses her balance. Joe catches her arms, just enough so that her landing is a soft one. She stares up at him, confused, concerned, because his voice is achingly resigned, like he's only asking for formality, like he already knows the answer.

Like the answer isn't what it should be.

"What?" she blurts, because she can't believe her ears, because the world is turning without her. "Is— is this a trick question?"

Joe looms over her. He's tall, and she loves that, usually, but now it feels foreboding. He doesn't say a word as he wraps his hands around her elbows and tugs her gently (so gently, her gentle giant, and oh, she loves him for it, doesn't she?) to her feet.

Marie laughs to spite the dread bubbling in her chest. "Of course I love you." But the words are hollow, somehow, even though they are _true_. "Why would you ask something like that?"

She clings to his elbows as Joe releases her. "You don't have to force yourself," he says softly.

"Force what?" She laughs, because this conversation is ridiculous, and it's definitely not going the way she thinks it's going. She hopes it's not going the way she thinks it's going.

Joe is gazing at her, tenderly, but so very sadly. Why is he so sad? "We should break up."

Marie stops breathing.

"You should marry the man you love," Joe continues. "Not... me."

Time doesn't exist. Break up? They've been dating since college nearly ten years ago. They're engaged! "That's funny," she hears herself say, laughing even though she isn't amused. "I thought the man I love _is_ you." She whiplashes from disbelief to fury. "That's why we're engaged, isn't it? _That's why we're getting married_ , isn't it?"

"I know you love Stein," Joe continues, as though he hadn't heard her, as though her rage is meaningless.

" _Loved_ , maybe. It was a crush, it didn't go anywhere, it's _not_ going anywhere because we're—!"

"I thought it would be best if you two... went on. Without me."

" _No,_ " Marie says immediately, clinging to Joe's forarms as he nudges her away from the door. "No? Joe, there's nothing between us— between me and Franken! What..." Her eyes fall on their little coffee table, where a ring sits. Marie looks down at Joe's hand, and then back to the table, and lurches to it, because _why isn't Joe wearing his ring?_

"I'm leaving," Joe tells her, picking up a duffel bag that Marie hadn't noticed. "Be happy with him, okay?"

" _No,_ " Marie repeats, furiously, snatching up Joe's ring and grabbing for his fist to _put it back on._

He pulls his hand away.

" **No** ," Marie insists, following him out the door and down the steps. The concrete floor is cold under her feet. "Joe, how long— We can talk about this, Joe, don't _leave me like you don't love me!_ "

He stops at that, turning and looking directly at her. She slams her fist into his chest and is unreasonably dismayed when he barely budges. "Take it back," she says, she pleads, she begs.

His hands wrap tenderly around hers, but he doesn't take his ring back. He lowers her hand, gently, gently. "Don't you think for a moment I'm doing this because I don't love you," he says hoarsely. "I left you everything I have on the superheroes, everything I've found out about Ladybug and Cataclysm. Look it over. It'll keep you safe, because I—" His voice breaks. "I can't. I can't protect you. But if you give the data to _Stein_ , maybe he can— Maybe you'll listen to him."

No. Marie watches, numbly, as Joe slings his bag into his car, gets in, shuts the door, pulls out of the parking lot, _leaves her_ , but she can't believe it. He's coming back, right? He'll come back. He can't have fit all of his belongings into a single duffel bag, into a single **car**.

Marie looks down. Opens her hand. Joe's ring sparkles unnaturally in her palm, twin to the ring still on her finger. Why does she have two rings?

A butterfly lights on the ring in her palm. Marie blinks, but it is gone, and the ring is black, and her helpless rage is consuming.

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," someone hisses suddenly, but Marie is too enraged to be startled. "Your fury is just, Hera. I, The Painted Lady, deliver unto you the tools for your revenge, but in return, I wish for your aid in my own revenge upon the one who scorned me."

"That is only fair," Marie agrees, seething, closing her hand around the ring as darkness roils over her. "I will seek out Ladybug and Cataclysm and destroy them."

The Painted Lady sounds almost amused. "No, not the heroes— I meant Shibusen and his university. I suppose the heroes will turn up eventually, though, so it would no doubt be wise to greet them appropriately."

"I'll deal with them first," Hera decides, tucking the black ring over her thumb. "The sooner they are out of the way, the better."

* * *

"Do you like sushi?" Tsubaki asks, out of the blue, while Soul is in the lounge practicing piano again.

"Hell yes," Soul blurts, salivating a little at the thought. "Why, though?"

Tsubaki shrugs lightly. "This is Halloween," she says, half-singing it. "And it's almost Maka's birthday."

Soul mulls over the idea. On one hand, Maka has been almost nice to him, even after Wes went and tried to marry them. On the other hand, Soul doesn't want to accidentally make another Shadow Blade.

But _sushi_. "If she's not gonna punch me for showing up... sure."

Tsubaki smiles. "She's been warned. Are you gonna be free tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Demmi pokes him through his shirt pocket. "I-if I don't get lost, I mean," Soul adds sheepishly.

Soul is blinded by lightning, then immediately plunged into darkness, and his earbud _tsew_ s painfully out midchord. His fingers trip over the keyboard.

"A villain," Tsubaki whispers. Her phone screen is shining on her face.

"Huh?"

"It was clear about two seconds ago," she explains, frowning.

"Oh." Soul blinks and looks around, his eyes adjusting slowly to the light. What do people usually do when they're stuck somewhere during an attack? He pulls out his phone. No signal. No wifi, either.

Tsubaki sighs, her phone locking as she leans back into the couch. "I hope this clears up before dinner," she frets. 

" **Come out, heroes,** " a voice booms suddenly, making both of them jump. " **I, Hera, demand your presence.** "

Soul stands. "I gotta go," he blurts.

"What? When there's a villain running around?"

"T-to the bathroom!" he half-lies. "Because I'm. Terrified of thunder! Watch my stuff?"

"S-sure," Tsubaki stammers as Soul stumbles out of the lounge to find a bathroom to transform in.

He's probably never going to live that down. At least the hallway is deserted.

"Demmi, spots on!" he whispers, and lets the rush of power sweep him away.

* * *

The lights in the library vanish suddenly, accompanied by a blinding flash of lightning and equally deafening clap of thunder. Maka squints through the darkness, glancing automatically at the windows, where people are already congregating. Wasn't today supposed to be sunny?

She fumbles for her phone (she'd set it on the table as a timer), gets briefly distracted by a couple of texts from Seb and Tsubaki (the former prompts an exasperated huff; the latter mentions bringing Soul to dinner, which makes Maka wonder if they're dating and if that's why Tsubaki has been so set on Maka getting along with him), before finally turning on the flashlight function.

" **Come out, heroes,** " a voice booms suddenly, making Maka jump. " **I, Hera, demand your presence.** "

Well. If Maka had any doubts about the cause of this blackout, they've vanished now. Maka turns off her flashlight and feels her way away from the windows and any of the other people wandering around with their phones. She manages to bruise her hip on a desk, but otherwise makes it safely to a back corner of the library, shelves looming silently around her in every direction, where she finally whispers, "Blerr, claws out!"

The library appears moments later, tinted green. Maka blinks a few times (the aisle is wider than she thought it was) and leaps onto the shelves to avoid contact with people.

Lots of people are still plastered to the windows. A handful have peeled off into smaller groups, probably already bored and resigned to waiting out the villain. Maka walks past them all, unnoticed, even slipping past a number of students running inside for shelter.

The weather is absolutely torrential. Maka starts to extend her baton to give her a better vantage point, but then lightning crackles over her head and she is struck by a vivid image of herself getting electrocuted. She could probably take it as Cataclysm, but does she really want to?

With a growl, she runs for the only building on campus with a reasonably sized overhang: the university center.

Ladybug is already there, standing at an entrance and looking pensive. "Cataclysm," he greets.

"Awful weather for a cat," Maka replies with a weak smirk, her spirits lifting at the sound of his voice even as she tamps down her fluttering heart. 

"Cataclysmic," he agrees absently. "She hasn't said anything since she called for us. I'd go up to the roof to look, but I nearly got hit by lightning on the way over, so I, uh. Didn't want to risk it again."

"There you are," someone sneers. Maka whips around and spies the villain, though she looks more like a vengeful goddess with her golden hair and empty eye socket.

"Relinquish your Miraculous and no one gets hurt," she says, casually dumping a man on the ground in front of her and stepping on the base of his neck. Maka glances at the man— ludicrously large to have been carried around by someone as small as this villain, but then, villains get the same super strength that Maka gets as Cataclysm.

"Let him go," Ladybug orders.

Hera snorts. "Don't misunderstand," she says disdainfully. "This one is mine, anyway. I was referring to the poor souls on campus." A small smile creeps onto her lips. "Did you know? Persephone, wife of the god of the dead, was said to be crueler than her husband."

"Let him go, Hera," Ladybug repeats. "Whatever he did to you, it's not worth it."

Hera's eye flashes. "This sack of coffee grounds thought I was cheating on him," she snaps, her hair crackling like a golden cloud. "For _months_! And there I was, the whole time, waiting for him to tell me why he was so upset. You could have just talked to me, Joe. You should have _trusted me_ ," she tells the man crumpled under her foot, and Maka recognizes her instantly.

"You're right," Ladybug agrees quietly. "He should have trusted you. That doesn't mean he deserves to be killed, though."

Hera ( _Marie_ ) laughs. "Kill? Ladybug, do you really think that poorly of us so-called villains?" She tilts her head. "But I guess you wouldn't know, hm? You've never been a villain before. I must admit, it's tempting to take advantage of these powers."

She lifts her hand, palm forward, and Maka spies a black loop on her thumb for an instant before she is blown off her feet. The world is a confused jumble of roaring air that refuses to make sense, even when she jerks to a stop.

The wind dissipates. Maka tumbles onto the ground back-first, and finally realizes that the grey ground she'd thought was far below her is actually the sky.

Ladybug extends his hand into her field of vision. "You okay?" he pants.

"Yeah." She takes his hand and curses her heart for speeding.

"Any ideas what her token is?"

Maka nods as she's pulled to her feet. "She has two rings on her hand. One's on her ring finger, but the other one is on her thumb, and it's black. I think... I think they were engaged, and then he broke up with her."

Ladybug looks at her oddly. "Do you know her?"

Maka shrugs uncomfortably. "Cat instincts?" she jokes weakly.

"Don't you mean woman's intuition?" Hera asks, landing lightly on the street and dumping Joe on the ground like a stuffed toy. "You two are outmatched. It would be wiser to give up now."

"But you're outnumbered," Ladybug retorts. " _Lucky charm_!"

Maka glances at the item that drops into his hands. "A sticky hand?"

Ladybug shrugs back. "Seems pretty obvious to me," he says mildly. "Could use a little distraction, though."

Maka rolls her eyes. "Of course you could," she says indulgently. " _Cataclysm!_ "

Hera looks disappointed. "I really didn't want to hurt anyone," she sighs, but her hand crackles with electric energy. "I wonder if you two are as immortal as you think you are."

* * *

It turns out that Cataclysm, at least, is immortal enough. Her destructive power collides with Hera's lightning in just the right way to absorb it completely. Their palms clap together in the most comical high-five Soul has ever seen, and both of them pause, stunned.

Soul fights back laughter as he slings his sticky hand at the high-five. It lands perfectly, of course, at the base of Hera's thumb, and when Soul yanks, the ring sails into the air.

Hera's head snaps up immediately. Cataclysm simply extends her baton to propel her upwards, swipes the ring out of the air, and vaults back to Soul in one smooth motion.

"Be my partner?" Cataclysm asks, kneeling and presenting the ring to Soul.

"Of course, Cat," Soul banters, plucking the ring delicately from her fingers. He promptly drops it and cracks it open under his heel. " _Whoops_."

One purified butterfly and a miraculous swarm of ladybugs later, Cataclysm lets out a whistle. "You're really crazy lucky, aren't you."

Soul shrugs, wincing at three sharp beeps each from his and Cat's miraculouses. "That's what ladybugs are for."

" _Don't touch me._ "

They both look over at Hera, who is no longer Hera. Soul recognizes her now as the civilian woman who had talked to the first ex-villain.

"She looks like she's going to go evil all over again," he observes nervously.

"He does, too," Cat says as not-Hera staggers to her feet and storms away from the man.

"I'll take the guy if you take the lady," Soul suggests.

Cataclysm nods wordlessly and runs over to help not-Hera. Soul approaches the guy once they've gone some distance away. "What happened?" he asks quietly.

"I broke up with her."

Soul winces. The guy sounds dead inside.

"I didn't want to," he continues when Soul doesn't say anything. "But she wasn't... I just wanted her to be happy. She smiles more with _him_ than she ever did for me."

That is... very many layers of messed up. "She was cheating on you?"

He shakes his head. "She said they were just friends, but I could tell that she likes him. Loves him. More than she ever loved me."

Soul stares. "You didn't, I dunno, talk about this?"

The guy shrugs. "What would be the point?"

Soul fights the urge to groan. Relationships are not his forté— between Wes and Mom trying to pair him with every other girl he's interacted with, he's only ever denied having crushes at all— but even so, he remembers how awkward Anya had been when she'd started dating her partner, and how much happier she'd been when she'd unlocked the magical force of communication. "If you couldn't talk to her, then you should have at least trusted her," he says, unable to completely bite back his frustration. "She's— She was your partner. You should've talked to her, she didn't even get the reason you left her, and now..."

Soul glances at not-Hera and Cataclysm, still a ways off. Cataclysm's belt tail is lashing around her feet, and her fake ears (Soul still doesn't know if they are working ears) are flattened over her pigtails.

"It wasn't going to work out anyway," the guy says quietly. "Marie wants to stay here. I can't do that." He gazes longingly at not-Hera and turns away. "Thank you for your service, Ladybug. Good luck. I hope she's right about you two."

Soul blinks at him as he climbs into a car (is that his car? Is the ladybug swarm really aware enough to put his car right next to him?), starts it, and drives away.

 _Deet, deet, deet._ Soul turns back to Cataclysm and not-Hera. The latter looks startled at the twin beeping of Soul's and Cataclysm's miraculouses. "You should go," the woman insists.

"But will you be okay?" Cat asks. Soul waves, and gestures that he's leaving, but her eyes widen.

Not-Hera says something to Cat as Soul is turning away, and then Cataclysm calls, "Ladybug!"

Soul turns, lowering his yo-yo hand. "Yeah? Is she okay?" he adds, quietly.

"She said she'd need time, but she'll try and stay positive for the butterflies. I, um— did you mean it?"

"... What?"

"About trusting your partner."

Soul blinks. "Well, yeah. What kind of an idiot doesn't trust their partner?"

Cataclysm fidgets with her baton. "Ladybug, I like you."

That's random. "Uh. I like you, too?"

"No, I mean— _a lot_."

Surely there's another explanation. Soul stares, trying not to jump to the only conclusion nagging him, but he is suddenly aware of how her teeth are worrying her lower lip.

"I like you as... I... We... W-will you go out with me?"

Oh.

He's felt like this before, he remembers distantly, back when he met Demmi for the first time. Cataclysm's mouth is still moving, but for once he can't hear her.

_Deet, deet, deet._

Soul jumps, stammers, "I— have to go, sorry, I'm— I— I'll see you around, okay?"

Cataclysm's ring beeps as well. "Wait—" she starts, desperately.

"Wait," he echoes back at her, pleading, yo-yo already thrown. " _Wait_."

And then he's gone, sling-shotting himself homeward, shutting down his emotions for later, when he can talk to Demmi.

He tucks himself into the windowless nook between Wes's house and the neighbor's, detransforms, and lifts his jacket hood over his ears.

"We need to talk." he tells Demmi. "Get in."

The little kwami complies easily, huddling against Soul's cheek while the latter puts in earbuds so he can pretend to be calling someone. "Chocolate?" Demmi asks.

Soul reaches for his bag to fish out his keys, and then realizes belatedly that all his stuff is in the piano lounge with Tsubaki. "Sorry," Soul apologizes. "At least the dorm isn't too far away?"

His phone buzzes. It's Tsubaki, worried. "I saw the ladybugs, but you still weren't picking up— where did you go?"

"R-ran home," he lies. "Sorry for worrying you, I should've checked in with you before I went, but I'm heading back now."

"Why on earth would you risk—"

"I'll explain when I get back," Soul rushes.

Demmi waits patiently for the call to finish. "You wanted to talk?" he says patiently when Tsubaki has finally hung up.

"Y-yeah, shit got weird with Cataclysm."

Demmi listens as Soul recaps Cat's sudden confession.

"How's that weird?" the kwami asks. "Do you like her or not?"

"I don't know," Soul admits. "I didn't really— I mean, she's cool? But I like Maka. I thought... I've never really been f-friends with anyone I crushed on before."

"So turn Cat down."

"But— I'm not _against_ going out with her? She's already my partner, just a different kind, and we have to work together, and that would be weird."

"Well, unless you're planning on some kind of polyamorous—" (Soul starts spluttering—) "polyamorous relationship with her and Maka, you're going to have to say no."

Soul is quiet for several long seconds. "It's going to hurt her," he says finally.

"Better rip it off now than lead her on. It's gonna hurt no matter what, Soul."

"I just thought... I don't want to sound like I'm turning her down because of her."

"It's not about her," Demmi points out. "If you don't want a relationship with her, you don't want a relationship with her. That's all."

"What if I don't not want a relationship with her?"

"Then go for it. Just don't leave her hanging."

"But Maka—"

"You're not going out with Maka," Demmi snaps.

"It feels wrong!" Soul half-shouts, stopping in the middle of the empty sidewalk. "It feels wrong," he repeats, more quietly, "liking someone and dating someone else."

Demmi grumbles. "Something's gonna give. Figure it out, piano boy."

* * *

"Kitten finally did it!" Blerr crows, twirling rapidly and delightedly over Maka's head. "You have kept me _waiting_ , you know!"

Maka throws her pillow at the kwami. "He said no!"

Blerr dodges the pillow easily, pouting up at her human. "That's not what you said before."

"He didn't say yes," Maka allows sourly, pulling her blankets over her head and curling up under them.

"He didn't say no," Blerr points out, phasing through the blanket to squish her face against Maka's.

Maka yelps in surprise at the sudden proximity, and then again when her phone buzzes uncomfortably in her skirt pocket. She flings her covers off and works the phone out of her pocket.

It's Tsubaki. "Hello?" she asks cautiously.

" _Hi, Maka! Did you still want sushi? Sebastian and Soul and I are all in the lounge...._ "

Maka scoots hurriedly off her bed. "Yes! Sorry, yes, I'm coming! I just. I got distracted. By the villain! But I'm coming now, I promise."

Blair flits reluctantly over to Maka's smaller bag, which Maka throws over her shoulder. Maka examines herself briefly in the mirror on her door, readjusts her pigtails with two quick tugs, checks to make sure her skirt is folded down, and races for the dorm lounge.

"Here comes the birthday baby!" Seb exclaims when Maka bursts through the lounge doors. Maka flips him off with one hand and presses her hand to her chest with the other, panting.

"Shut it, old man," Maka throws back.

"I'm only two years older—!"

It's a thoughtless, drama-free night at the new conveyor belt sushi restaurant, and Maka is grateful for any excuse not to think of Ladybug. She spends the night trying to look for the least fish-like fish on the menu and sneaks tuna to Blerr, who happily eats her way through everything Maka gets her. She laughs with Tsubaki, ribs Seb, and largely ignores Soul, who in turn keeps quiet, though he does make the mistake of asking what the penis game and is promptly humiliated by Seb leaning across the table to roar "PENIS!" in his face.

Tsubaki, halfway through her second bottle of sake, cracks up and spills her drink all over herself and Seb, who is sitting across from her. She apologizes, Seb laughs it off with innuendos that prompt Maka's ire, and suddenly Maka finds herself alone with Soul while her friends clean up.

"Are you and Tsubaki dating?" Maka asks, to break the silence, and because she's curious, dammit.

Soul looks startled. "No, no way!" he blurts. "She likes hanging out in the lounge and I go there for the keyboard because the practice rooms are always taken, and, uh, considering how we met... We're friends." He sounds certain on that, at least, and Maka has to take a moment to adjust her perception of him.

"I forgot you played," she says aloud. "Are you a music major?"

Soul shakes his head. "Undeclared. I'm pretty sure my transfer application only made it through because my brother pulled some strings," he adds with a quiet, self-deprecating laugh.

"Oh, yeah." Now that she thinks of it, he'd mentioned being a junior transfer when he bought her that apology dinner, which had turned out to be much quieter and less taxing than she thought it would be when she'd accepted it.

"Are you and, uh, Sebastian dating?"

Maka bursts into laughter. " _Heck_ no, that's gross, he's like an obnoxious big brother," she explains. "I've known him since I was a kid—"

"I like you."

Maka pauses, still grinning at the stupidity of the idea that she and Seb were dating. "What?" she asks, brows raised and absolutely convinced that she misheard him.

"I l-like you," he repeats, his eyes trying to meet her gaze and failing repeatedly. He finally settles for staring determinedly at her shoulder. "I know we didn't get off on the best foot. Um. But I wanted to ask—"

"No," Maka says, immediately. Her voice is too loud.

Soul flinches. "Okay." he says meekly.

... Really? That's it? Maka feels suddenly off-balance, because while it's nice that he didn't push it, shouldn't he have been more aggressive somehow?

Tsubaki and Seb return to the table then, giggling and just disheveled enough for Maka to round on Seb with a glare. It's not until after she's waved goodbye to the boys and helped Tsubaki to her room (and checked that Seb was nothing but a gentleman to her) that she collapses onto her bed and stares at the ceiling, her thoughts circling around two white-haired boys.


	6. Take a Break

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: references to past cheating, general confused feelings, ao3's stubborn refusal to accept emojis.

"Makaaa," Blerr drawls.

"You **have** fish!"

The kwami floats up out of Maka's backpack, dangling Maka's phone from her tiny paws. "Ate it. Want more. Your papa is calling." She chucks the phone at Maka with surprising force for such a little creature.

Maka catches her phone reflexively. "Ingrate. Stay out of sight." The library café is pretty empty today, but Soul is due to show up for office hours any second.

Blerr shrugs lazily, but sinks back into Maka's backpack. "Talk to him, kitten."

Maka sticks her tongue out at her kwami, but pokes the green answer button. "Hi, Papa."

"Hello, my darling daughter!" He's doing the thing where he pitches his voice up like he's talking to a baby. "Papa was wondering if you might want dinner—"

"Sorry, Papa, I need to study," Maka says automatically.

"But next week is Thanksgiving—"

"It's never too early to start," Maka lies. She can't tell him that she's scraping through her classes this semester because she's been chasing villains, because she doesn't want to admit that she's struggling to keep her A's, and because she can't tell him that she's Cataclysm, and also because he would _flip_ if he knew she were chasing villains.

"Maka..."

She bites her lip to hold in a snarl. She knows that voice: it's the one he always used when he was worried about Mama, and it's the one he still uses when he's worried about _her_ , as though he has any right to be worried about either of them after what he did.

"Maka, you should take a break," Spirit Albarn tells his daughter.

With a growl, Maka rips her phone from her face and jabs the screen to end the call.

"What did he want?" Blerr yawns from somewhere in her backpack.

Maka glances irritably down at the bag as she chucks her phone back in it. "Nothing."

"Didn't sound like nothing."

Maka nudges her bag with her foot. "None of your business, cat."

"Tha's fine. 'S long as it doesn't become Cataclysm's."

* * *

**Messages > BACK IN BUSINESS**  
**Today** 8:56am

_Are we still on for lunch at 1?_

_Yes!_  
_Please._  
_I need to complain to someone._

_:(_  
_That bad?_

[ **BACK IN BUSINESS** is typing...]  
[ **BACK IN BUSINESS** has entered text.]  
_I told a lot of people I was engaged._  
_It's hard having to tell them._

_:(_

**Today** 9:00am

_Stein's still single btw ;)_

_YOU'RE HORRIBLE._

_I'm sorry I was joking D: D: D:_

_Professor Manslut!!!!_

_Noooo I'm sorry :'(_  
_Please say you're still on for lunch  
_Maka already said no :'''(__

_IM NOT YOUR DAUGHTER. STOP PRETENDING I AM._

_That wasn't what I meant!  
_Maka just really looked up to you but she won't even let me explain that you've been in town :(__

_I've already seen Maka._

_What? When?_

_Without you._

* * *

Stein notices the butterfly, marvels briefly over the darkness of its wings, and then utterly dismisses it from his sleep-deprived mind in favor of staring at the computer crunching slowly through the data from yesterday's lab rats. It's not until the loud, artificial _tak-tak_ ing of Spirit's phone-typing stops that Stein thinks anything of it, and even then it takes a few seconds.

"Stein," the professor says suddenly. "Can you go meet Marie for me? Something came up with Maka."

"I'm a little busy right now, Professor," Stein replies, automatically, because he cannot think of Marie without remembering that she's no longer engaged, which does strange things to his heart that he really, _really_ cannot spend time examining. He does glance from his computer screen to Spirit, but then has to take a second look: the older man is dressed in a long, hooded robe with an almost cartoonish scythe in his right hand. "... You know that Halloween is over, right?"

"I've told you not to call me professor," Spirit sighs, raising his phone.

"I'm not calling you by your first name, Professor."

Spirit's phone makes a loud camera-shutter sound. "Call me Father Time," the man declares, fiddling with the device, and Stein thinks belatedly that he probably should have run.

His vision blurs as he stands, though, putting Spirit— Father Time— suddenly and worryingly out of focus. He pulls off his glasses to polish them, only to find that they are weirdly bigger than he remembers, and that his vision is much clearer without them, and that his clothes are mysteriously several sizes too large.

"Go get breakfast with Marie," Father Time orders. His body flickers like a hologram, leaving only his voice behind. "I'll text you her address. Oh, and school is cancelled, so just have fun."

 _Well_ , Stein thinks as he takes stock of his newly prepubescent body, _that could have gone much worse._

* * *

Maka's phone screen turns to maximum brightness for no apparent reason, drawing both her gaze and Soul's. When an unfamiliar, cloaked figure takes form over the phone, though, Maka scoots her chair back to _run_.

Soul lunges across the table and straight through the apparition, tumbling into her. " _Shit_ , sorry, go," he hisses, his breath hot and caffeinated against her nose while he finds his feet, half dragging Maka up with him. He gives her a little shove as an artificial camera shutter snaps, _loudly_ , and Maka thinks irritably that the student population really should have learned better by now.

Then she hears Papa tutting with frustration, and she _knows_.

She's grabbed Soul's hand by this time and is running for the bookshelves where they can hopefully hide and maybe split up so she can go be Cataclysm. "Nice tackle," she quips, but it's more out of habit than of annoyance as they slip between several shelves, ignoring the villain's mournful, " _Makaaaa! It's me, Father Time, your papa!_ "

"Thought he was solid," Soul pants back, and then he stumbles and falls and Maka is somehow, impossibly dragging him.

She turns to look, but he's gone. In his place is an adorable, white-haired, wide-eyed boy of maybe seven years of age in clothes _way too big_ for him. He stares up at her with shocked, red eyes. "Wh-what— how'd you get all— _why's my voice soprano?_ "

Maka stamps down the urge to coo at the boy's prepubescent voice. "Soul?" she says instead, dumbfounded.

"Maka!" the villain says, delighted, and Soul spews curses. (Maka is mildly aghast. Seven-year-olds were not meant to say those words.)

"Go!" Soul hisses, lifting _tiny, adorable hands_ and shoving at the small of her back just enough that she can't see the villain.

"But, Soul—?"

"I'll be fine, he's after you," he insists. "Just run!"

So she does, escaping deeper into the matrix of library shelves. "Blerr!" she hisses, and the kwami flies out of her jacket pocket. "Claws out!"

Fifteen seconds later, Maka is navigating the tops of the shelves, making her way toward Father Time's _mortifying_ cries for his precious baby girl, when a boy in bright red catches her eye.

He's dressed exactly like Ladybug. It would be adorable if he wasn't also leaning around a bookshelf, looking as though he wants to ambush Father Time.

"Kid!" Maka hisses. The child jumps and looks around. "Up here! Get out of the way!"

He bristles. "It's _me_ , Cat," he hisses back.

"What— did he get you?"

"As a civilian, yeah," Ladybug grumbles, except that he sounds like a petulant child, but more adorable. "I think I've figured out how his power works, though. He takes a picture of a person with his phone and edits it. I just used Lucky Charm—" he holds up a tiny, red, polka-dotted laser pointer "—and I was waiting for the right chance to hit him. I dunno about his token, though...."

"How about his _phone_?" Maka offers, amused.

He looks abashed. "Right. Duh."

"Hello, little heroes!"

Maka throws herself off the shelf and into the next aisle over to avoid getting a picture taken of her, and then scrambles to her feet to put some distance between herself and Father Time.

" _Cataclysm! Lights!_ " Ladybug yells.

Maka looks up. "Camera!" she yells back in comprehension, and then, " _Cataclysm!_ " She grabs her baton with her free hand and extends it to propel herself up to the library ceiling, right next to a light fixture, and slams her powered hand into it. "Action!" she quips as the corruption spreads along the electric system, shutting down the library lights and throwing half of the floor into shadow.

Maka can still see reasonably well, of course. She is making her way back toward the naturally-lit sections of the library, where Father Time is bound to retreat to, when she hears Ladybug's cufflinks beep warningly, and changes course accordingly to find him. A few seconds later, she lands silently in front of him, and is startled when he bumps straight into her because she forgot that he can't see in the dark.

"Sorry, LB. Good thing you don't scare easily," Maka whispers while he nurses his nose. "We should move in case Father Time actually tries to look for us by sound."

"I'll let him win if he does," Ladybug mutters back. "How're you getting around?"

"Night vision."

" _Lucky_."

Maka giggles at how childishly envious he sounds.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. What's the plan?"

Ladybug fiddles with his laser pointer charm. "Maybe we _should_ let him find us," he mutters. "Especially since we're on timers now."

Maka's ring beeps as though on cue. (Three toe-beans and one paw print left.) "I could blind him with the laser pointer," she offers. "I don't have to leave the shelves to see him."

Ladybug blinks. "Cat, you are _brilliant_."

Maka is suddenly glad that Ladybug can't see in the dark and witness the lovestruck smile stretching uncontrollably across her face. "Y-yeah?"

" _Heck_ yeah! Here!"

The plan works perfectly. As soon as Maka incapacitates Father Time, Ladybug knocks the villain's phone out of his hands with the yo-yo, dashes over, and swings the yo-yo down once more to crack the phone screen.

One purified butterfly and a swarm of ladybugs later, Ladybug sighs in relief as he is put back to his usual age. "That is _so much better_ ," he hums, his voice even lower than Maka remembers it being.

"I-I dunno, you made a cute kid," Maka teases thoughtlessly, slinging an arm around his shoulders and abruptly noticing how _tall_ he is.

The startled look he gives her makes her regret language. "I, uh—" _Deet, deet, deet!_

"You should go," Maka mumbles, pulling her arm away and glancing down at his cufflinks. Only two spots remain on them.

Ladybug looks torn. "But I— you— look, I'll be at the stairs at Hall Forty-Two, okay?" His eyes, a red as unnatural as her own green, shine pleadingly at her. It scrambles her brain.

"O-okay?"

" _Meet me there,_ " Ladybug insists. "Later. After classes."

"Of course, just _get out of here_ ," Maka splutters, shoving him toward the library entrance.

He grins back at her, a crooked and grateful smile, and Maka doesn't remember that he still hasn't answered her confession until he's gone.

* * *

Marie doesn't miss Joe too much these days, if only because she's put his file and his _money_ away in a shoebox that she's abandoned in his office, where it can all _rot_. (She would have thrown it out, but... _money_.)

Still, her bed is too big and too cold, and she'll have to clear out the office when she moves out, and her landlady has been uncomfortably sympathetic, and Mira has cancelled every last arrangement without a hint of surprise, and _Spirit_ seems to think that it was all for the better.

And Franken... well, she hasn't seen Franken. She's been too confused and guilty to see Franken.

Someone knocks on the door.

"Coming," Marie calls.

"Take your time," the person calls back. They sound young. Marie tries to remember if she's ordered anything lately as she opens the door.

“What can I do… for… you? Are you Franken’s nephew?” she blurts weakly, because the boy looks like a baby-faced version of the Franken she had met in college, complete with a huge, dragging lab coat with his preferred style of stitches. 

“It's me, Marie.”

Marie shuts the door and puts her head in her hands and screams silently.

“Marie?” Franken’s voice is faint and muffled.

“ _Why are you fourteen_ ,” Marie demands, her face still in her hands.

“I think I'm thirteen, physiologically. Professor Albarn went evil,” Franken explains, as though it happens every day, which is… probably true, actually, given the frequency of villains over the past semester. “I was the first person he saw.”

Marie opens the door again, flabbergasted. “Why didn’t you make a report?”

Franken blinks back at her. “I did,” he says bluntly. “They tried to detain me, but while the difference in height is mildly disorienting, I quite forgot how unpleasant glasses are. Spirit is relatively harmless, too, so I didn’t see a problem with following his request.”

He’s so matter-of-fact about it, Marie thinks with dismay. “His request?” she asks, but she steps aside.

He doesn't come in. “He said to get breakfast with you, so I thought I would,” he explains. “We haven't seen each other in a while, either.”

 _That meddling old man._ Marie makes a mental note to give him a piece of her mind the next time they meet, and then belatedly remembers that she just did.

“Do you know why he went evil?” she asks quietly.

Franken shrugs. “He was on his phone. Maybe a ladyfriend rejected him.”

 _Oops._ She'll have to apologize, and maybe ask Maka if she wants to join her and Spirit for dinner some time. For now, though…

“If there's a villain out there, it's safer if we stay in, right?” she asks. “Come in, I'll cook something up.”

* * *

Hall Forty-Two’s staircase is one of the most iconic places on campus, and therefore also one of the most deserted after classes are over.

Ladybug is already there, leaning against a wall looking pensive. When she arrives, stepping off her baton onto the railing, he smiles. “Cataclysm.”

“Ladybug,” she replies, and feels her heart flutter like there's a spotted red beetle beating around her ribcage.

He takes a deep breath. "I, um. I need to tell you something."

Maka grins weakly under her mask. "You know you can always say no," she says quietly.

Ladybug shakes his head. "I don't want to," he says simply. "But it's... complicated."

Pink light sweeps from his feet upwards, turning a red, black-spotted suit into jeans and a familiar, burnt orange sweater. Slicked white hair loosens, grows messier, falling into his face.

His eyes are a deep, familiar brown.

"This is who I am," Soul Evans says quietly to Cataclysm. "Soul Evans. Junior transfer, student of Shibusen University, undeclared major. Ladybug."

Maka turns and runs, her heart pounding.

**Soul Evans is Ladybug.**

* * *

**Messages > BACK IN BUSINESS**  
**Yesterday** 10:56am

_I'm sorry for yelling at you._  
_I ran into Maka by accident back in September._  
_We haven't actually been meeting up without you._

**Yesterday** 11:26am

_How do I wake Franken up?_

**Yesterday** 12:52pm

_Omg is that why he's not back yet?_  
_Let him sleep, I don't think he's left the lab in several weeks_

_What if he has a deadline?_

_He doesn't_  
_He's just a workaholic_

_You're not going to talk about how cute he is when he's asleep?_

_Spirit I swear._

_You were thinking it ;)_

_… Maybe._  
_The snoring is really awful though._

_I knowwww it's the worst_

**Yesterday** 1:00pm

_Is this what it felt like when you were cheating on your wife?_  
_Oh God I didn't mean it like that._

**Yesterday** 1:54pm

_I thought I loved Joe._  
_But now I love Franken?_  
_And it hasn't even been a week?_

**Yesterday** 2:02pm

 _Now you know how it feeeeeels :P_  
_Jk_  
_Your way is better_  
_You're not still with him_

_Do you want to be with Joe?_

_I don't know._  
_I don't think so?_

_I think I just wanted to be married like everyone else my age._  
_And Joe wasn't a bad choice._  
_Or I thought he wasn't._

**Yesterday** 3:43pm

_I don't want to prove him right._

**Yesterday** 4:21pm

_About what?_  
_That you were too good for him, or that you and Stein are [ok-hand] [ok-hand] [ok-hand]?_

_It sounds silly when you put it like that._

_I cheated on my lovely wife with a girl on a whim and I didn't realize it was a stupid thing to do until my life fell apart_  
_And even when I did realize I didn't stop_  
_I think I've got you beat on acting silly_

 **Messages > My Darling Daughter**  
**Yesterday** 6:20pm

_Are you okay?_

_Papa is just fine <3_  
_Sorry if I worried you :'(_

 **Yesterday** 7:03pm

_Dinner?_  
_Tomorrow, I mean._  
_I just ate._

_Whatever you want pumpkin <3 <3 <3_

**Today** 12:49am

_I'm sorry._

**Today** 1:55am

_Me too_


	7. Where My Demons Hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: severe anxiety/panic attack, implied emotional abuse, surprise violence (sharp edges are involved), more anxiety, language, ~~Black Star~~ Seb screaming in all caps.

Marie fidgets nervously at the dining room table. "Look, Franken, I'm grateful that you want to help, but you really don't have to."

Stein pauses at the door of the study, his hand resting on the doorknob. He remembers this from study parties years ago, remembers Marie being frustrated until he'd figured out that whenever she asked why it was so easy for him, she'd really been asking why it was so hard for her. "It's not a problem for me," he says cautiously, because that much is true.

"It doesn't bother you?"

Stein glances back at Marie, who is studiously avoiding his eyes in favor of stacking emptied breakfast plates. "Should it?"

She stills but doesn't look at him. "He was living with me. We were about to get married. I don't know— I haven't looked, I don't know what he left behind, other than some stuff he'd researched about Ladybug and Cataclysm for the newspaper. And he's only been gone for a few weeks. Isn't... isn't that weird?"

For someone else, maybe it would be, but Marie is Stein's first relationship, and he's never paid attention to romance before her. "If you think it's weird, it's probably weird," he says honestly.

Marie giggles. "So it's not weird to you?"

"It's felt quite natural." And it has. Ever since he accidentally fell asleep at her dining table and woke up with a blanket over him, he's found himself texting her whenever mealtime rolls around and replying swiftly when she texts him first. For reasons he has not examined, he is drawn to Marie, and now that he can indulge in that compulsion, he feels... happier? "I don't quite trust my metric, however," he continues. "I have not—"

Odd, that he can't get the words out. He shouldn't be ashamed of a true statement, but somehow, he is. Marie is smiling, though, just a little bit. "You really haven't dated anyone?" she asks quietly.

Easier to shake his head than to force words from his traitorous throat.

"I suppose I'd have to clear out that room eventually," Marie decides after a moment. "If you want to go ahead, I'm not going to stop you."

"How generous," he says flatly, because sarcasm is easier than whatever other emotion is cultivating in his chest.

She bumps her hip against his thigh as she passes him, carrying dirty plates and mugs. "Don't act like you weren't curious, Mr. Scientist," she laughs. "Go nuts."

"I believe the correct phrase is _go mad_ ," he says neutrally, opening the door.

"No, it's n—? _Franken_!"

"Don't drop those dishes."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

* * *

The week after Thanksgiving is uncharacteristically quiet. Maka takes the reprieve from fighting supervillains to throw herself into her classwork instead of drowning in her confused, boy-related emotions.

This mostly works, except that Soul has continued being quietly present during her office hours, which is distracting because he is Ladybug, but also because she'd rejected him, but especially because **he's Ladybug**.

Maka has had to change her opinion of Soul Evans several times now: he's gone from misogynistic freshman to quiet, aimless transfer to inexplicably asking her out to now, finally, her partner, Ladybug, who she's been fighting feelings for and who apparently has had feelings for her all along.

Assuming that he hadn't asked her out on a dare. The thought repulses her, but the pang of anger disappears quickly, because between what she knows about Ladybug and what she's learned about Soul, she feels in her gut that he would never do anything like that.

Crona stands suddenly, jolting Maka from her thoughts. This is their first time at her office hours this semester, but they seem to be struggling more than their grades have shown.

"Crona? Are you okay?" Maka asks quietly, gently, because she remembers how Crona had struggled last semester.

"B-bathroom," Crona stammers, too loudly. Their limbs move awkwardly as they scramble away from their table.

"Okay." Maka pastes a smile on her face and hopes that it comes across as understanding when her heart is thundering at the idea of being left alone with Soul for the first time since she'd found out that he's Ladybug. (He's Ladybug. **Soul is Ladybug.** ) ((Crona doesn't look back.))

The coffee machine at the library café shuts off, and the quiet is suddenly unbearable. "Why did you ask me out?" Maka blurts.

Soul jumps. "Wh-what?" he stammers, and Maka finds herself unexpectedly relieved at the awkward note in his voice, because it means that he's at least a little nervous, too.

"Y-you heard me," Maka responds, rebelliously, because she can't bear to ask again.

"Isn't it obvious?" he asks nervously, deflecting her question. Irritating.

"I dunno, it could've been a bet," she mutters, staring down at ungraded papers in front of her. (She misses Soul's flinch.)

"I wouldn't do that," he says, and Maka recognizes the edge in his voice as the same one that creeps into Ladybug's voice during particularly stressful fights.

"I know you wouldn't," Maka admits quietly. "I just... why me?" Why had Soul fallen for Maka Albarn and not Cataclysm? Why, when Cataclysm is everything Maka is, but with visible cleavage?

Soul is quiet for a moment. Maka lifts her eyes just as he begins speaking. "Because... because at first you were a mistake I couldn't run from.

"Because I messed up but I didn't want to run, because you didn't go after me. Because you forgave me, eventually, and you were fair to me, even when you thought I was an asshole. And maybe a little bit because I thought you were cute when you punched me out," he adds, slurring the last sentence into barely-comprehensible syllables.

Maka is stunned. Her? Cute? "Cute?" she repeats dumbly.

Soul's ears are red. He glances up, but when their eyes meet he promptly turns them back onto his papers. "Y-yeah, cute," he says, defensively, as though daring her to argue with him.

She's still trying to piece words together (Ladybug thinks that she, Maka Albarn, is _cute_ , and apparently thought so even after she had _punched him in the face_ ) (( **she has punched Ladybug in the face** )) when the building shudders. Both of them spring to their feet with barely a thought, trained by months of supervillain attacks.

"A villain?" Soul asks tersely, as though they don't both already know, and Maka wonders how she hadn't noticed the similarities between him and Ladybug before.

She could tell him now. She could _show_ him now, and it would be so much easier than using words, so she ducks under the table. Once he follows suit, she takes a deep, shuddering breath, and whispers, "Blerr, claws out."

* * *

Crona stares at the sheet of paper sitting innocently on the table before them. How long have they been here, with their pen poised over the paper, waiting for words that won't come?

The silence in the library is punctuated by the loud _tick-tock_ of a clock. It's distracting. Crona wants to find it and rip it off the wall and throw it out of the library.

"Crona? Are you okay?" Miss Maka, the TA, is looking ~~_don't look don't look_~~ at Crona now. The paper on the table is still blank, and farther away than Crona remembers it being. When did they stand up?

"B-bathroom," they stammer, too loudly, and in their haste they trip several times on their way to the facilities, avoiding the eyes of both Miss Maka and the other student at the table.

"Okay," they hear Maka say.

The bathroom is mercifully nearby. _Mother was right after all,_ Crona thinks as they lock themself into the handicap stall of the bathroom, stagger to the wall beside the toilet, and sink to the floor. _You can't do this. You'll never be her child. Not really._

The grip they have on their hair pulls painfully at their scalp. The pen still in their hand digs uncomfortably behind their ear. Crona wants to sink their nails into their skin, pull away the flesh, claw through their skull to fix their _brain, why are they so messed up when Mother is so perfect, how could Crona possibly be Mother's child? Maka should have been Mother's. Anyone else should have been Mother's. Maybe then they would have been quiet enough, studious enough, perfect enough—_

"My child," a voice whispers, and she sounds like Mother but so much gentler than Mother ever was. "No one is perfect."

"Mother is perfect," Crona says automatically. "And Miss Maka."

The woman clucks sympathetically. "Oh, child. You are not the only broken one in this broken world. I'll show you their cracks, if you like: but in return, won't you help me tear down this broken school?"

"I don't know..." Crona whispers.

"I'll show you, Ragnarok. Don't you want to know?"

"Yes," Ragnarok whispers, and their world is swallowed by black ink.

* * *

The library shudders, and Soul is both annoyed and relieved as he jumps to his feet.

"A villain?" he asks Maka, as though he doesn't already know.

Maka ducks wordlessly under the table. Soul follows suit, and then—

"Blerr, claws out."

Soul stares. For an instant he wonders why Cataclysm is transforming in front of a civilian— but then he remembers that Cataclysm knows who he is, knows that Soul Evans is Ladybug, and realizes intuitively that this is her way of telling Ladybug who Cataclysm is.

"Maka— Cataclysm?" he croaks, dumbly.

She grabs her baton from her back, nodding silently, but the furious blush peeking out from under her mask speaks louder than Soul can think. They stall for a long moment, staring, and Soul can't think of anything to say because he's just so _confused_ —

The library trembles again.

"I'll go ahead," Cataclysm says, tearing her eyes away from his and streaking out from underneath the table.

"We're going to have to talk about this, aren't we," Demmi says with flat, resigned amusement from Soul's bag. "Until then, shall we?"

"R-right. Demmi, spots on!"

Fifteen seconds of pink sparkly power later, Soul catches up with Cataclysm, who is exchanging blows with a one-winged angel of a villain next to the library entrance.

"Finals haven't even started yet!" Cat yells, swinging her extended baton at the villain.

"Do you know?" the villain asks, chillingly quiet. "What it's like to hate yourself?" Their wings morph impossibly into a black blade that sends Cataclysm's baton flying.

 ** _Danger!_** Soul's mind screams at him, and he throws himself at Cataclysm to push her out of the way of the blade.

"Ladybug!" Cat screams, and Soul opens his eyes with a gasp. The weapon had definitely gone through him, he'd _felt_ it breaking bones and bursting organs, but when he puts his hand to his chest, his suit is completely intact, and when he breathes it is painless, and his hand comes away dry.

"Ladybug," Cat repeats, and Soul gathers enough of his wits to realize that the blow had sent both him and Cat straight through the library doors, where the villain steps over broken glass. He looks back at his partner, whose green eyes are narrowed with hurt. "You idiot! You're more important than I am! You're the one who _fixes_ everything!"

"S-sorry," Soul stammers, staggering to his feet. "I wasn't thinking. Are you okay?"

Cataclysm's brow is furrowed. "I'm fine, the magic protected me from the glass. Are _you_ okay?"

Soul spreads his arms shakily. "I'm fine, look. No harm done."

Cataclysm shakes her head. "I'm not so sure about that," she tells him, and Soul's eyes follow her gaze to the villain approaching them.

He's not the same villain. Actually, he looks like Soul— or rather, he looks like Ladybug. Instead of Ladybug's deep red, though, his suit is eerily monotone, as is his skin. He smiles predatorily at Soul, who feels a cold dread seep into his spine and spread through his bones.

Soul inhales shakily. "I guess I should fight that one, since he came from me," Soul says weakly, and doesn't say aloud that he wants Cataclysm (his partner, ~~his~~ _Maka_ ) as far away from that abomination as she can get.

"It was my fault for losing focus," Cat argues. "I should fight him."

Soul shakes his head. "I have a bad feeling about him," he says quietly.

Cataclysm relents. "If you're sure."

This time Cat approaches the villain more cautiously, circling around Soul's doppelgänger warily, but the thing seems mercifully disinterested in her. "What a surprise, Ladybug," he says silkily to Soul. "You're really going to take me on yourself?"

"You're my responsibility," Soul replies quietly. " _Lucky charm._ "

A box of band-aids drops into his hands. Soul tries to will his mind to work, but he feels sluggish and slow, and he can't take his eyes off of his doppelgänger.

" _Responsibility_? What a joke," the double snorts. "Well, whatever. Name's Antibug."

Soul retreats as Antibug advances. "And you're Ladybug," the doppelgänger drawls. "Lay-dee-bug. What a cute name. Not very fitting for a cool guy like you, though, is it? I can't believe it was the first thing you thought of."

"Shut up," Soul says, gritting his teeth against the sudden, overwhelming anxiety freezing his bones. Why is he so nervous?

Soul stumbles. Antibug's smirk widens. "You're such a coward," he sneers. "Why do you fight? You can't save anyone. You don't even _want_ to be a hero. Give up, you fake."

"You're wrong," Soul says, but his mind trembles. This demon is right— Soul never wanted the miraculous, never wanted Demmi. Unlike Cataclysm, who was eager to pounce even on day one, Soul has never enjoyed fighting supervillains and is downright terrible at comforting them. He's bound to fuck up. He's already fucked up, just by putting this _thing_ into existence.

Soul throws his yo-yo. It's an act of desperation, unplanned and panicky— but he feels so trapped, dread churning in his gut with the overwhelming need for Antibug to _shut up and disappear_.

Antibug plucks Soul's yo-yo out of the air, and Soul's nerves plummet. "You're really not trying, are you?" he asks scornfully, and then Cataclysm is there, wrapping one arm around Soul's waist and pole-vaulting them up and away.

"Wait—!" Soul yelps, struggling to reach for Ladybug's yo-yo.

"No," Cataclysm tells him flatly. Soul recoils from her tone and goes limp in her arms, staring down at the band-aid box he's still clutching in his hands. _Deet, deet, deet._

"What the fuck was that?" she snaps when she finally comes to a stop on a roof. She lets him go, and he crumples to the roofing. _Worthless,_ Soul's mind whispers. _You said you'd handle Antibug. Can't you even keep your promises?_

"I don't know why the hell you were listening to that **demon** , but I'm snapping you out of it," Cat continues impatiently, grabbing his shoulders and glaring at his face. "You're not a coward or a fake, Ladybug— _Soul_ —" (Soul is wracked by a full-bodied shudder, shocked by his name, and finally meets her green, green eyes) "—that's why you're still here, isn't it?"

"It was a mistake," Soul whispers. "I'm a mistake—"

"But you're _here_ ," she insists. "You're here, and you're fighting. You didn't have to take on that _creep_ , but you tried to anyway."

She's right. She's _right_ , Soul realizes, the fog lifting from his mind. Maybe he didn't want the miraculous at first, but he's fighting anyway. He could have given up, could have taken off Demmi's cufflinks and thrown them away and kept out of the way with the rest of the student population whenever supervillains appeared. "Y-yeah," he breathes. "Yeah, I'm... I'm still Ladybug." The words are a salve, burning through the air and melting away the chill that had been numbing his bones.

"Good, because I'm getting nowhere with Ragnarok," Cat huffs.

Soul peers over the edge of the roof, feeling suddenly refreshed, like he can breathe again. Cataclysm must have taken them on a loop, because they're on the library. Antibug is nowhere in sight, but Ragnarok... "Is that him? The black bubble?"

Cat nods. "They sealed up when I went after them. I don't think they can use their sword right now, because why wouldn't they try it on me?"

"Maybe the sword is the doppelgänger, wherever it is," Soul thinks aloud. "It must take concentration to use it like that. What's up with the bubble, though?"

Cataclysm shrugs. "I've been bashing at it, but it's not giving," she informs him. "I think I can break it with my power, but, um. I could hear your fight with Antibug, and I didn't want to time out on you."

Soul shudders at the memory, which is punctuated by the beeping of his cufflinks. "Well, we can try now, but the barrier might re-form. I could try stealing his token before it closes again, but I don't know what it is. You've fought him more, do you know...?"

Cataclysm looks thoughtfully over at Ragnarok. "Well, if that's who I think it is," she says slowly, "I remember Crona didn't put down their pen. It would make sense, too, because I think that black stuff is ink. I don't know where they're keeping the pen, though."

Soul blinks. "Oh," he says softly at the vivid memory. "The doppelgänger has it."

"What? Really?"

"It was tucked behind its ear—"

" _I found you,_ " Antibug croons behind them, and Soul's blood turns to ice in his veins.

Cataclysm throws herself at the doppelgänger, ignoring Soul's worried shout. "Go!" she yells at Soul. "It doesn't affect me, so _go!_ "

He wants to go, but he _can't leave her with Antibug._ Every fiber of his being broils with agony at the dilemma.

Cataclysm's baton hits him in the gut and shoves him, sending him flying past the edge of the library.

Soul crashes onto the yellowed grass in front of the library, spreadeagled, staring up at the grey, wintry sky, confused and hurt and _betrayed_. Why would Cataclysm— why would _Maka_?

" _Cataclysm!_ " she roars, audible even from the roof, and the oppressive weight lifts abruptly from Soul's mind.

He sits up in time to see Ragnarok's bubble dissolve, leaving Crona crumpled on the ground in its wake. They sit up, too, looking around in confusion.

"Wh-what? How— L-Ladybug!"

Soul extends his hand to them. "You okay?" he asks.

Crona blinks, their eyes pale and eerie and lost as they try to take his hand. "I— I think s-so? Wh-what happened?"

"Hang on, you're hurt," Soul says, his cufflinks beeping as he jerks his hand away from Crona's bloody, glass-scratched hand. "I should— here."

He's managed to hang onto his lucky charm somehow, so he takes a red-and-black band-aid from the box and wraps it carefully around the cut on Crona's hand. Then he pulls his classmate to their feet.

"You turned into a villain," Soul says carefully. "You're a student, right? Finals stress?"

Crona nods hesitantly. "I'm— I'm s-sorry—"

Soul shakes his head. "It happens. Don't worry about it," he says. "You're okay now."

Crona nods again.

Cataclysm lands with a loud _thump_ on the concrete behind Soul. Crona jumps. Soul turns to her. "You need to go, right?" she asks Soul. "How much time do you have?"

"Not much," Soul realizes abruptly, and throws the lucky charm into the air. " _Miraculous ladybug!_ "

Cataclysm looks at Crona. "I know you're struggling, but you can talk to people, okay?" she says kindly. "Your professors, your TAs, even university counseling if you think you need it. Good luck."

Her ring beeps loudly. She grabs Soul's wrist and drags him into the library through its newly repaired doors.

Soul follows Cataclysm wordlessly through a deserted patch of shelves, and they detransform together.

He's still startled when Maka appears in Cataclysm's place, sending not unpleasant shivers down his spine.

"Hi, Soul," she says quietly.

"Hi," he replies, also quietly.

"We should probably go back to office hours," she suggests. "Soul and Maka never left." She finally lets go of his wrist.

"Just kiss already," an unfamiliar voice yowls. Soul jumps.

Demmi peers lazily over Soul's shoulder. "'Zat you, cat?" he asks sleepily. "Can I have some chocolate, please?" he adds to Soul.

"It's me," a tiny black cat confirms, peeking over Maka's head.

"This is Blerr," Maka says shyly. "She's... um. She likes boys."

" _You_ like boys," Blerr retorts.

"You're Cataclysm," Soul says, stupidly.

"I am," she says, biting her lip. The motion catches Soul's eye.

"I had a fucking _crisis_ when you asked me out and you're the _same fucking person_."

Maka shifts nervously. "You're angry."

Soul tries to sort his whirling thoughts, because he's not angry, not really. "You liked Ladybug."

He's never seen Maka blush before. "I, um. You're really handsome. And when you called yourself Ladybug— I just assumed that he— that you— not that Ladybug is _better_ than you, because you're the same person, but I probably gave Ladybug more of a chance. Considering."

"Off-key," Soul agrees distractedly, staring at her freckles in utter fascination. "I think I wanna kiss you, but I'm also. I, you know. Tried to get over you."

Maka flinches. "Did it take?"

"No."

Maka scoots closer. Soul stares at her eyes, at how long her eyelashes are when she blinks and how they catch the light, at the texture of her irises and how green they are. "Wait," she says, suddenly scowling. "You were going to go out with Cataclysm."

Soul winces. "Yeah."

She shoves him. He staggers backwards. Maka advances like a dragon, grabbing a book off a shelf and brandishing it. " _Why._ "

"Because I knew I didn't have a chance with you, so I thought I would try with Cataclysm. Who is also you."

" _You didn't know that,_ " Maka hisses.

"I know! I didn't— that's why I didn't say yes when Cataclysm—! But when she— when you— I didn't look at Cataclysm because I was too in love with you, and she didn't— you didn't— I showed you that I'm Soul because I didn't want to lie to you, I was going to tell you about, uh, you, but then you _ran the fuck away_." Which had left him an absolute _wreck_ over Thanksgiving, thank you very much.

Maka is completely red as she lowers the library book. "O-oh." She bites her lip, distracting Soul _again, why does he still want to kiss her_.

"Because she's very kissable. I want fish," Blerr interrupts, and oh, he'd said that out loud.

"I would like chocolate, as well," Demmi reminds.

Maka stuffs the book back onto the shelf. "I'll go back first," she mumbles, flustered. "Blerr, pocket."

"Nyehhhh," the kwami complains, but slips off of Maka's head and into Maka's skirt pocket.

Soul lets her shuffle past him. Once she's out of sight, he sits on the ground. "She's Cataclysm," he says dumbly.

"Yes," Demmi says patiently.

"Did you _know_?"

"Not a clue."

* * *

Marie's knock is quiet, but it draws his attention all the same. "Lunch time," she announces from the doorway. "What do you say we grab something from Rumba?"

Stein blinks at her. "Yes," he decides belatedly, and she beams. He glances back down at Joe's files as he stands. "This is, this stuff is fascinating, though," he says, following Marie out of the room. "He interviewed a lot of ex-villains, did you know?"

"I know."

Her tone is short, but Stein is too distracted to do more than make note of it. "Of course you did," he realizes. "That's why you arranged for us— but the psychology of it is absolutely fascinating, I can't believe I didn't look into it— or, well, I can, I suppose. The Painted Lady, though— the way she's using her powers is _wrong_. If you believe Joe's theory, I guess," he adds thoughtfully.

"What was Joe's theory?" Marie asks dully.

"It comes mostly from the observation that Ladybug's and Cataclysm's powers are similarly derived: they both seem to have an object that grants them power. The Painted Lady, meanwhile, seems to grant powers by infecting an object, a token. What's interesting, of course, is that while villains seem to be under The Painted Lady's influence, Ladybug and Cataclysm are obviously not. Joe's theory is that Ladybug and Cataclysm _used_ to be under The Painted Lady's influence, but somehow broke free and have fought her ever since." Stein wrinkles his nose. "That doesn't explain why the attacks began so suddenly, though. Perhaps he was ignoring that particular clue."

"He's good at doing that."

Stein looks at her, surprised at her vehemence. "Oh. You're angry."

Marie glares at him, mouth open to retort, and then her eyes widen with shock, and then everything goes pitch black.

* * *

"What's happening with the black ink?" Maka asks quietly.

Soul shrugs uncomfortably. His thumb rubs along the edge of the paper plate in front of him. "I didn't catch the butterfly, so it's... reproducing. Demmi's words, not mine."

"So it _was_ the first time you couldn't catch the butterfly," Maka says thoughtfully, staring at Soul's hand (long-fingered, with a prominent bone structure). "I wondered about that."

Soul flinches down at his questionably-edible meal.

"Don't start," Maka warns, scowling across the table at him. "Ladybug is the one who fixes everything, right? We've just... got to hope that the akuma reactivates somehow." Her lips twist anxiously. "Unless we can find The Painted Lady and put an _end_ to this whole affair."

"Don't forget about finals' stress," Soul mumbles. "How has Crona been?"

Maka sighs at the thought. "They haven't talked to me or the professor since the library. They'll probably reactivate soon."

"Demmi said it doesn't have to be Crona," Soul offers.

"But it probably will be," Maka says gloomily. "And in the meantime, all those poor people are trapped in those... those awful ink bubbles."

"I know." Soul worries his lower lip, exposing a sharp canine. Maka tries not to stare in fascination.

"HOLY FUCK, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE FLIRTING OVER THE NEWS, HOW FUCKING BORING IS THAT."

Maka feels her face warm and flings herself fist-first at Seb's stupid bright blue hair.

"I tried to stop him," Tsubaki sighs. "You two were really cute though," she adds to Maka, slyly, under her breath.

"It's not—" Maka stops, because it is.

"It _is_ ," Tsubaki sings happily, nudging Maka into Soul's side of the booth. He scootches obligingly over for her, and when she reaches thoughtlessly for his hand beneath the table, he laces his fingers in hers.

"How did you find us?" Soul asks sheepishly. Maka is gratified to note that his face is at least faintly flushed.

Tsubaki giggles. "You know we're in the cafeteria, right?" she replies indulgently. "It's less a case of finding and more a case of getting lucky."

"What about you two?" Maka accuses. "You weren't this close when Seb graduated."

Tsubaki shrugs. "We never sat down together for long enough before your birthday this year. Remember last year?"

Maka makes a face. "It almost ruined Halloween. Yes, I remember."

Seb snorts. "Don't you mean it made Halloween _fuckin' awesome_?"

Soul leans over. "Do I want to know?" he mumbles into Maka's ear, sending chills down her spine.

" _No_ ," she says flatly to hide the sudden urge to touch his face.

"You two are _gross_ ," Seb complains.


	8. The Painted Lady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: deliberate pronoun confusion, guilt tripping, endings? what are thoooooose

The power of her stolen Miraculous captures her breath every time, but this time, Arachne might be as excited as she was the first time she transformed, more confident than ever before that those irritating superheroes can be safely swatted aside this time. Finally, _finally_ , she can get down to the business of destroying that which has been stolen from her: Shibusen University.

All she has to do is wait for Crona to fall once more to panic and hurt and frustration. It's amazing, really, that such an emotionally fragile human would be such a powerful villain. Ragnarok may be one of the most powerful villains Arachne has made all semester, and since Ladybug had failed to purify Ragnarok's butterfly, she will have even more tools to work with this time around.

Crona's negativity stands out even among the rest of the stressed university students, which all hum unpleasantly around her, waiting to be plucked like threads. The unsound is an unfortunate necessity, she thinks, as Crona's anxiety spikes.

"Go forth, little demon," Arachne commands, releasing Ragnarok's butterfly, which flutters away through the open window. "Darken Crona's soul and bring upon us the end of days."

When she feels the link open, she can't control the wild grin that spreads across her face. Still, her voice is as calm and kind as it always is when she creates her villains. "My dear Ragnarok," she coos. "We can end this school and your suffering. You know what to do."

"End the school, end the stress," Ragnarok mumbles back. They sound as though they kneel before her rather than half a mile away in a locked bathroom stall.

"That's right," Arachne purrs. "You've got help this time around. I'm counting on you."

The black bubbles that have been imprisoning Shibusen University's population activate, transforming those within into silent mannequins. They turn and shamble toward the university president's office. _Your time is coming, Shibusen,_ Arachne thinks, viciously triumphant.

A black-suited figure appears before Ragnarok, shouting, but her partner is nowhere in sight. "Check the roofs," Arachne advises, and is pleased at the absence of red. Cataclysm will be easy to handle without Ladybug's meddling. "Bring her Miraculous to me when you've defeated her," Arachne commands. "We'll take no more chances."

* * *

This time Ladybug isn't there to throw himself between Ragnarok and Cataclysm, and this time Cataclysm crashes into the ground alone with an untouched chest that feels like it's been cut in two.

Maka opens her eyes with a gasp, her hands flying to check that she's still in one piece. _You're fine,_ she thinks, and pushes herself clumsily to her feet.

She spots her doppelgänger, and her heart plummets, immediately self-conscious, because even magic can only do so much for her figure, and she knows she doesn't look like that.

Maka's double is elegant and shapely, with a costume that accentuates her voluptuous, womanly curves despite being just as modest as Maka's costume. Like Antibug, the doppelgänger is monotone, but the eerie lack of hue only makes her more evocative of a film noir femme fatale.

"Catastrophe, at your service," the doppelgänger says with a salute to Ragnarok, who merely retreats behind their impenetrable ink bubble.

Maka launches herself wordlessly at the woman, who tuts. "You're really not nice, are you?"

Maka scowls. "Funny you should say that," she retorts. "Last I checked, I wasn't the evil one."

Catastrophe scoffs and flicks her free wrist dismissively, blocking Maka's baton strike with a baton of her own. "I didn't say you were evil, I just said you're _not nice_. You realize Father Time was _your_ fault, right? And Black Star? And don't get me started on what you've been putting poor Soul through."

Maka flinches. Catastrophe continues blithely, blocking Maka's baton effortlessly. "You keep complaining about men's minds being in the gutter, but _you_ were the one who misunderstood what Soul first said, weren't you? And now the way you've been looking at him is just _sinful_. Well, I can't really blame you for that one, he is _sexy_. Who do you think he'd like better?"

"Shut up!" Maka roars, feeling paper-thin behind Blerr's magic. Their batons clash together once more.

"Poor pussy cat," Catastrophe hisses, grinning ferally. "You just can't take the truth, huh? Cataclysm, you are _not nice_."

Maka screams wordlessly, swinging her baton like a bat. Catastrophe catches it and rips it effortlessly away. The mirror's baton strikes Maka's shins, knocking her to her knees.

Catastrophe seizes Maka's whirlwinding wrist. "You're no hero, Cataclysm," she purrs, removing the ring.

It's the second time Maka has been forced to detransform, but this time, she has nothing to fight for, because Catastrophe is right.

Maka Albarn is no hero.

* * *

Ever since Franken was captured, Marie has made it her business to track down The Painted Lady. She'd had no luck, so she'd settled for trying to catch Ladybug and Cataclysm, but even they had made no appearances since the bubbles had began, leaving her to scrounge fruitlessly through Joe's files.

Now, finally, Ragnarok is back. Marie had thought that this villain had been defeated, but there he is, swathing himself under an ink bubble. The sight makes Marie's heart pound with rage and frustration.

More worrying is how Cataclysm isn't handling her doppelgänger very well. Marie waits with baited breath for Ladybug to appear, but the red-suited hero is absent even as Catastrophe plucks Cataclysm's ring and drops it and a crumpled sheet of black paper into Ragnarok's waiting palm.

Where _is_ Ladybug?

Catastrophe begins melting into a black blob, dripping over Cataclysm as though consuming her. Ragnarok sprouts inky wings and takes off for the sunset.

Marie hesitates, wondering if Cataclysm is safe to approach. Would the doppelgänger go after her instead? She can't risk it, not when she needs to have solid words with the superheroes.

Ladybug finally arrives, leaping down from the nearest roof and tumbling to a halt in front of Cataclysm to plunge his hands into the melting mass that is the double. Marie sucks in a gasp— what if it infects him?— but the ink drips into nonexistence from his hands.

He grabs Cataclysm's shoulders through the goop, hissing at her. Marie creeps closer, enough to hear Cataclysm's reply: "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Ladybug demands as Cataclysm pushes him away. He seizes her hands.

"I'm the worst," Cataclysm replies dully. "I'm just— you don't need me."

"Poor pussy cat," Cataclysm croons mockingly, startling Marie— but it's not Cataclysm, she realizes: it's the doppelgänger. "Lost little pussy cat, all alone. Ugly little pussy cat, flat as a washboard. Cruel little pussy cat, don't you know that men are people, too? You hurt him, you know, you've been hurting him for all these years."

"What's happening to her?" Marie asks.

Ladybug's head whips around. For an instant he is defensively silent, but then he explains, "The ink brings out insecurities. Ma— Cataclysm... isn't immune. What... what happened while I wasn't...?"

Marie swallows. "Ragnarok took her ring."

Ladybug looks back down at his partner, his hands still holding hers. "You're better than this, M— Cat. I know you are."

"I don't deserve you," Cataclysm says numbly.

Ladybug makes a frustrated noise. "That's not...." He closes his eyes, restraint in every line of his body, and then he stands. "Where did the villain go?" he asks abruptly, looking straight at Marie with piercing red eyes.

She points at the sun sinking into the horizon. "Catch him so you can fix his mess, Ladybug," she orders.

He nods, looking back down at Cataclysm. "I'll be waiting for you, okay?" Ladybug tells her firmly. "You're Cataclysm, with or without the miraculous. _You're a hero no matter what you wear._ "

Marie watches Ladybug leave before turning to Cataclysm. No, not Cataclysm, Marie realizes— it's _Maka_ under all the mess.

Maka curls into an even tighter ball at her name. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

"You're Cataclysm?" Marie asks, mind racing. So this is why Spirit has been fretting over Maka so much this semester: the girl has been juggling superhero duties on top of her academic ambitions, and she hasn't exactly been able to explain herself, given that anyone she knows might have become an enemy the next day.

"Well, if that cat is out of the bag, so is this one," an unfamiliar voice complains, and then a tiny black cat darts out of Maka's coat to hover in front of Maka's face. "Kitten, look at me. _Maka._ "

Maka shudders. "I'm sorry, Blerr," she whispers.

"What are you?" Marie blurts.

"No time," the creature (Blair?) dismisses. "We gotta get Maka back up to spunk so she can _get my ring back_."

"I don't understa—"

"Maka, kitten."

"I should have listened to you more," Maka wails. The viscous black liquid drips over her head, obscuring half of her face. "I shouldn't have goaded Sebastian, I should've talked to Papa sooner, I should've given Soul a chance—"

"But Sebastian is still your friend, and your papa still loves you, and Soul— he said it last week, didn't he? He messed up first. It's not your fault alone, kitten. You're learning, and that's okay."

Marie marvels at this little creature, working so calmly and determinedly to save Maka.

"... Marie?"

"Yes, Maka?"

"How bad was Papa when I wasn't talking to him?"

Marie thinks wryly of drunk 2AM texts. "He lived," she tells her. "He worried about you, of course. You know Spirit. But he was trying to respect you and not spam your phone. And besides, after what he did to you and your mother, he deserved a little—"

But Maka is shaking her head. "I thought that, too," she says sadly, even as the blackness around her begins to retreat. "But he's not a bad person. He's just...."

Maka makes a face at Marie, and Marie can't help but laugh. "He is, isn't he? Spirit never changes."

And the ink falls away at last. Blair (?) looks satisfied. "What next, kitten?"

Maka scrubs at her eyes as she stands. "I need to find S— Ladybug," she says firmly. "He's expecting me, even if I can't be— can't use Cataclysm this time."

"Good kitty. Thanks for your help," the little cat adds to Marie.

"Wait, what are—?"

"If you have a request, I'll take it, but I'm no genie," the creature complains. "Otherwise, Maka and I gotta go."

Maka is already looking in the direction that Ragnarok and Ladybug had taken off, scowling determinedly.

Marie breathes in, breathes out. "My boyfriend. He was bubbled. I want him back."

Blair laughs. "The scientist? You didn't even have to ask. We'll save him, Marie. We'll save everyone."

* * *

He feels like the shittiest boyfriend on the face of the planet for leaving Maka alone, but he also feels strangely calm. What happened to Maka was his fault: he was the one who failed to purify Ragnarok, and Maka is paying the price, but isn't that what Cataclysm is for? The supporter, the distraction, the one who takes the blows and the bad luck so that Ladybug can fix everything?

And maybe he doesn't want to be a hero, but he wants to _fix things_. If he's responsible for Maka suffering, then he'll damn well take responsibility and be a fucking hero if that's what it takes. If she's hurting because of him, then he has to make sure it's not for nothing.

He finds Ragnarok before he expects to, catching up just in time to spot the supervillain sly through an open window in the face of the campus clock tower. Soul follows with reckless certainty, rolling across the room and coming to a stop in front of one person more than he was expecting.

Ragnarok drops Cataclysm's ring into the woman's open palm. "What a miscalculation," she says softly, her long, spidery fingers closing around the ring.

Soul remains crouched on the floor, absorbing the sight of the woman who must be The Painted Lady: pale, elegant, and so swathed in veils and shadow that he can barely make out her face. At her throat is a butterfly-shaped brooch.

"You're a miraculous wielder," he realizes. " _Give it up._ "

She scoffs, her wispy costume rustling softly around her. "I don't think so, child." She extends her hand. "We can do this the easy way, or we can bring about the end of the world."

Soul is silent for a moment as he carefully scopes out the interior of the clock tower, and then he casts his yo-yo into the air. " _Lucky Charm._ "

"So be it," The Painted Lady sighs. "Ragnarok."

The supervillain moves in a blur, inky black sword at the ready. Soul catches his lucky charm and rolls out of the way.

Ragnarok recovers quickly and charges again before Soul can even look at the object in his hands, so he throws his yo-yo up again, this time to hook it in the metal rafters and give him a better vantage point. He has to jump over the swinging sword, all too wary of its effect, and then the yo-yo snags in place and Soul is zipping upward.

He flips onto a rafter and finally looks at the lucky charm. Fireworks.

 _So Maka can find him_ , he intuits, but he has nothing to light it with.

He looks down. Ragnarok has disappeared. Soul throws himself forward into empty space and feels the wind of Ragnarok's sword slicing through the air behind him. The sword itself shrieks against the beams, throwing off sparks.

Soul glances at the open window in the clock face, ideas clicking swiftly together as he lands with enough force to drive him partially into the wooden floorboards. He winces— that'll cost him precious time—

Ragnarok is still diving for him. Soul frees himself with barely any time to spare. The black sword must clash against something metal under the floor because it throws up a scattering of sparks, enough that Soul can feel the heat of them on his face, and he glances down at the charm to double check his luck.

He needn't have. The fireworks are fizzing happily away. Soul lobs them out of the open window and they explode into red, ladybug-shaped lights almost immediately.

Ragnarok's sword catches him across his back. Soul had to turn away to throw the charm, and it had been enough.

He gasps against the old, splintery floorboards, trying to stave off the creeping dread. Then his powers vanish suddenly, leaving Soul a whole different kind of breathless. He reaches blindly for the earrings that had been his cufflinks, but The Painted Lady holds them out of reach. She must have approached him while the sword had knocked him briefly out of consciousness, and now she retreats once more.

"It's not strictly necessary, anymore, but this should be fun," she says, her voice receding from goosebumps-inducing proximity to a gloating distance. "I wonder what he'll say this time?"

" _Trust your partner_?" Antibug begins scornfully, and Soul's entire body shudders. "You don't know her. You didn't even think the ink would affect her. Was she supposed to just shrug it off? No one's _that_ strong."

"She is," Soul slurs back, pushing himself painfully to his feet and staggering away from his double, only to slam clumsily into the back of the clock face. Demmi squirms in Soul's hoodie, and he manages to feel relief with the knowledge that his kwami is still with him.

Antibug slouches toward him, hands tucked blurrily into suit pockets. "It's your fault, you know," he tells Soul matter-of-factly. "You made me happen. Thanks, by the way. It's really nice to exist. But you made me happen, and I made you incapable of purifying Ragnarok's butterfly, and then Catastrophe got Maka, and here we are! Really, you should've let her take the fall in the first place and avoided this whole mess. Nice job breaking it, hero."

The Painted Lady shrieks suddenly, enraged, and Soul's eyes snap automatically in her direction, away from Antibug's unnerving presence. He catches his breath at the sight of pigtails, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Antibug slop shapelessly to the floor.

"It's not your fault, Soul, it's _hers_ ," Maka declares, clutching the brooch that had been The Painted Lady's.

"Give that back, you wretch!" the woman hisses, throwing herself at Maka but stumbling over uneven flooring. Soul thinks he sees stiletto heels under her floor-length gown and wonders if the miraculous transformation gave her anything other than the veiled hat that has disappeared.

"I know you don't really need to run around, but maybe learn to move in fancy clothes," Maka observes, dancing around her opponent.

"Ragnarok!" the woman howls, but the supervillain just looks confused. They aren't purified, but they aren't receiving instructions anymore, either, Soul realizes.

Maka deftly loops a scarf (her own scarf?) around the woman's wrists. "You've lost," she tells the woman as she ties a knot into the scarf.

The woman snarls back. "You know nothing, Cataclysm."

Maka punches the woman's head lightly. "Just give Soul his earrings so he can cleanse everything. Or I can knock you out? No guarantees you'll come out okay, but I'm sure Ladybug can fix it."

There is a brief glaring match, but the woman eventually opens her hands and lets the stolen miraculous clatter to the floor.

"Cool," Maka says tiredly, scooping them up and then dragging the woman across the clock tower to where Soul is leaning against the clock face. She hands Soul the earrings and replaces her ring on her finger.

He reattaches his miraculous to his bracelet. "Demmi is gonna need—"

"Here," Maka says, producing a bag of miniature chocolate chip cookies and offering them to Demmi, who leans out of Soul's hoodie just far enough to snatch them from her.

"Maka, you're an angel," Demmi sighs, ripping the bag open gleefully.

"Sorry I couldn't find any chocolate bars."

Demmi waves a forearm and replies unintelligibly but happily through a mouthful of cookie. Soul stares at Maka. "How did you...?"

Maka grins sheepishly. "I might've broken a vending machine to get to it as quickly as I could. It'll fix, right?"

He shrugs.

"Oh. Oh, well."

They sit in exhausted (fuming, in The Painted Lady's case) silence as Demmi munches on the cookie. "I'm ready," the kwami finally announces, handing the bag to Maka's outstretched hand. "Soul."

"Demmi, _spots on_."

Power seeps back into his veins, loosening his joints pleasantly and peeling away the soreness of his unexpected detransformation earlier.

"The paper?" Maka asks Ragnarok, who relinquishes the item willingly, if confusedly. Maka rips it in half, and Soul catches the emerging butterfly with his yo-yo.

"Be free of evil," he says quietly, releasing the now-cleansed butterfly.

"I brought this, too," Maka adds, producing the twisted remains of the firework charm.

"How the— nope, not questioning it." Soul takes the burnt wreckage and throws it high into the clock tower. " _Miraculous Ladybug._ "

* * *

His first jumbled thought is that he's probably been victimized too many times, considering that his mind can work through the bliss of Ladybug's cleanse well enough to wonder how long he's been out _this_ time.

The next thing he registers is that he is in a veritable mob of people, all standing in confusion around the elusive university president, who is perched precariously atop a bookshelf.

"Well, that was lucky," Lord Shibusen says cheerfully, climbing off the bookshelf. He dusts off his suit, and then turns to inspect himself in the wall mirror beside the shelf. "I expect there are explanations in order, but I've places to be. Perhaps there'll be a news story about this later?" And he ushers the crowd of them out of his office, shutting and locking the door behind him. "Ta-ta," he waves, and disappears down the stairs of the administration building as someone else dashes up them.

"Franken!" Marie calls, crashing through the crowd. Stein thinks he might have fallen over if the people behind him hadn't been cushioning the force of impact, much as they grumble at the sudden jostling.

"Marie— marry me," he blurts.

That wasn't what he meant to say. He must have been out for a while.

Marie blinks up at him, speechless. Stein grins awkwardly.

"Franken, I swear, if you're just joking—" Marie begins, and then seems to change her mind. "You know what? No. No take backs. You just proposed, and I say _yes_."

Stein wonders for a dizzying moment if he's dreaming. "What?"

Marie pouts. "I mean," she says softly, "if you really don't want me, then... I can't exactly _force_ you, can I? But I want to."

The way she stresses "forced" makes him think of her trying to take charge in bed, and he can't help but laugh at the thought. Then he just can't stop laughing.

"This isn't funny? _Why are you laughing so hard._ "

He folds her into a hug, still laughing.

"Franken—"

"I want to, too," he admits through his laughter. "Marry me, Marie Mjolnir?"

" _Yes!_ "

Someone whistles. Someone else starts clapping, and before he knows it, they are being applauded. "If this is a dream, I'd like to publish my paper, too," he says distantly.

"... I might have helped Spirit finish up the research," Marie admits. "Last I heard it was approved. So, probably soon?"

Stein places his hands on her waist gently, and then picks her up and slings her over his shoulder to a delighted shriek. " **Time to go home** ," he announces over more noise from the peanut gallery.

" **Have fun, be safe!** " someone yells, and without bothering to glance back Stein simply flips off the offending Professor Albarn.

* * *

Ladybug and Cataclysm emerge from the clock tower just as Lord Shibusen reaches it.

"Oh, good, we're all here," he says cheerfully.

" **You** ," Arachne growls, hurt and betrayal mixing in her voice.

He ignores her. "Crona, is it?" he asks instead. The student looks vaguely confused, but nods nevertheless. "You're very creative," he tells them. "Not every supervillain can come up with a power like that. You have to study a bit for them, but I'm sure you'll pass your finals with flying colors."

Their cheeks pink. Ladybug and Cataclysm exchange a glance. Arachne, unable to articulate her rage, instead shrieks wordlessly. He ignores her.

"Get to it, then!" He claps his hands, and Crona jobs bewilderedly away, smiling. "Do this university good," he calls after the student.

"Mr. President," Cataclysm says. "What are you doing here?"

"Soul, my boy," he says, and Ladybug jumps. "What, you didn't think I'd know the name of the boy I gave the ladybug to?"

"S-sorry, I don't understand," Ladybug stammers.

"Maka, too. I'm glad you held up under all of your duties," he tells Cataclysm, who only blinks, too astonished to react further. Well, that's about par for the course.

"You wretched old geezer," Arachne spits out. "You don't deserve these children and you know it."

Shibusen regards her. "And you do?" he asks disdainfully. "No, Soul, Maka, I'm sure you've been enjoying my gifts very much, but I'm both afraid and pleased to inform you that your duty is complete."

They stare at him. He sighs. "They never believe me, Kiddo."

"You do a poor job of making yourself trustworthy," the kwami buzzes critically, poking his head out from under the brim of Shibusen's hat. "Nice to meet you, new holders of the ladybug and the cat. I hope my master hasn't startled you unduly."

"Now, now, Kiddo, they've just won a very difficult battle, and Maka has a final in... half an hour, I believe?"

Cataclysm yelps. "It's not cancelled?"

"Should it be?"

" _We just had villains shambling all over campus—_ "

"I'm afraid you'll have to take that up with your professor," he says apologetically. "I would not trust Professor Barrett to be too flexible with his schedule. He's not that kind of man."

She lets out a muffled screech and glances at Arachne, who is also screeching. "But—"

"I can handle The Painted Lady," Ladybug says softly, resting a hand on Cataclysm's shoulder. "I don't have any more exams today."

Cataclysm looks torn.

"Go," Ladybug urges, and with a sigh, she departs.

"I can handle Arachne," Shibusen offers.

"No," Ladybug says slowly. "No, I don't think so."

Arachne falls silent, though she still glares at Shibusen.

"Hmm. Good luck finding a place for her, then."

"... You are eerily okay with that."

"Oh, stop stringing the poor child along," Kiddo says impatiently from Shibusen's hat. "Look, Ladybug, jails can't hold Arachne, not since she's got a kwami, and not since she refuses to release her. We can, and this time she won't be stealing more miraculous.

Ladybug blinks. "She stole her miraculous from you?"

"We are the guardians," Shibusen says. "We made an error in judgement, and you and Cataclysm paid the price. Forgive us."

Ladybug doesn't say anything for a moment longer, until finally, "I'll have to talk to Demmi and Cataclysm, but I don't think we're giving the miraculous back."

Shibusen nods. "And Arachne?"

Ladybug's lips twist. "I don't have much of a choice, do I? I can't watch her forever."

"It would be enormously inconvenient at best," Shibusen agrees. "And her miraculous?"

"... We'll keep it. It's better if she's not near it, right?"

"That is fair," Shibusen allows, and takes Arachne's upper arm. "Take care, Ladybug. You know where to find me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE THANKS TO [@professor-maka](http://professor-maka.tumblr.com/) FOR THE BETA EYES, and also MUCH LOVE FOR [@feather97](http://feather97.tumblr.com) for her [amazing beautiful gorgeous art seriously go feast your eyes it is absolutely wonderful can you believe she did this on like a week's notice dear lord](http://feather97.tumblr.com/post/157108760587/).


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